A Match to Tinder II: Devises
by anesor
Summary: DA2 sequel, Aldera Hawke/Anders, continuation of official story and AMT1 where Vengeance was defeated. Chapt 16: Further inside the Carta stronghold, how many others have been there first?
1. Coming Out of the Wilderness

_This work is a sequel to both the game Dragon Age 2, and a previous story A Match to Tinder. That story was about the Champion and Anders' time immediately after the final battle in sunny Kirkwall. Fleeing, their friends and enemies were scattered too. Flight was not always simple, even with a friend or two. The hardest things were first rebuilding their relations after betrayal and violence, and then to find some way to deal with the threats from Vengeance. Vengeance was faced down, so Anders and Justice have struck a new balance. With spring, they must return to the road, to see if the seeds of change have resulted in progress for mages._

_The Dragon Age world, game plots, and those characters from there aren't mine but belong to Bioware. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

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**Eastern Frostbacks, leaving Hallowdingle **

**Aldera Hawke:**

Throwing my arms hastily away as I lost balance, I tucked them in for a roll as the hill I was descending lurched like a storm tossed ship. I slipped and fell into the lingering snowbank we were crossing. I started to stand again, but I couldn't help cursing as the cold had hidden that I'd wrenched my knee a bit.

Carefully crossing to where I'd slipped, Anders silently squatted to examine the injury before healing it.

I wanted to ask why we couldn't wait another week or two when travel would be safer, but I knew why. Justice had been patient for the months we'd stayed in the small village, but they had gotten more restless as the weather warmed until there was only light snows between melting. They both wanted to know what, if anything, had happened since we'd last gotten any fresh news months ago. But my mage had gotten grim and quiet for the last week as the snow slowed and plants began to be visible through the snow.

Carefully pulling me up to stand again, Anders smiled faintly. "Just be a little more careful, love."

I put my arms around him into a hug. "Maybe I just want your attention on _me._"

His smile warming finally, Anders slid his arms around me for a hard kiss. "It was on you and your rear at the time. I'm almost surprised I wasn't the one to slip."

Smiling, I decided that he should not have to miss out, and swayed myself into him enough to unbalance us. We landed in the snow together and air puffed out of his lungs when I landed on him.

His eyes flashed for a second, but he pulled my face down for another kiss before reaching lower.

I was just glad he wasn't showing Justice's determination now. We had spoken about violence and negating the point for change and I thought the spirit understood now, but I still wasn't completely convinced. I didn't know how much lingered from Vengeance's whispering.

Cold dripped down my neck, and I thought it might be Paws checking on us, but I saw Anders' grin as one of his hands moved away from the cold spot.

I got back to my feet and tried to knock as much snow out as I cursed his ancestors. Then I asked, "Are you going to help dry it?"

"Mine's wet and cold too, Hawke. We'll be fine." He was smugly grinning at me.

Big Paws bounded back to us, his claws helping with his footing. Ser Mew peeked out of his basket, looking unhappy as he had less space in the basket now, but he wasn't fond of walking in snow.

Muttering as cold water was dripping down my back and it wasn't worth changing clothing, I moved downhill again.

A few days after we came down out of the village, we'd still had to camp in our tent due to our slow pace and distance between towns. When we reached the first place with an inn, I was glad to get a room. It only took a few more days until we'd left the mountains and full winter behind. Travel was much easier and no one cared about mercenaries who looked worn and experienced. One of the nicer things about being in Ferelden was that a trained mabari wasn't quite as notable here, and some rude people avoided us completely because of him.

_The best part of that Hallowdingle had been that they really didn't care what happened beyond their area. Even the Sister who led services when the weather allowed, had no interest in a couple of recovering mercenaries who were retraining after battle injuries. Those months we worked on our disguise weapons more often than our true ones._

_We'd made one change to our disguise that 'Brana,' no longer carried Celebrant, while 'Heysal' did. Anders and Justice had both vowed that Justice now remembered some skills he'd learned at the Vigil even if I hadn't really seen it against enemies yet. He was sweating like a pig when he demonstrated some back in Hallowdingle, but was it good enough, short of the Arishok or Meredith? I was sure with her arrival, they would use magic._

_At least Celebrant could be wielded by Justice at need. That and Anders was tall enough to carry the blade and look more intimidating than I._

After the months last autumn with first Merrill and then Vael too, our tent was almost spacious now.

I turned towards Anders and asked carefully out of habit, as this kind of question had to be asked for so many years. "Are you sure you don't mind if we visit where Lothering was before we check on Kinloch?"

Anders' face stilled for a moment before he smiled and said wistfully. "I'd like to see it, love. I have to admit I'm curious about such a small village as Lothering being so important in so many tales I've heard around campfires. Many of the Warden's were sad little tales about fools who thought traps would save them from darkspawn, but I prefer hearing more about farmyard pranks about your family. I must have passed through it on one of my escapes, but I really don't remember it."

I took a second to wonder how life would have been if I'd met him then. If Papa had been alive, he probably would have sent Anders on his way to preserve our secret. I wasn't as sure what would have happened in our last three years in Lothering. Mother usually tried to stop our bickering but made few decisions. I was well aware Bethany could have used another instructor. Still I might have let him go, thinking he'd draw Templars on us. That was terrible to even think about.

"It wasn't much different than most places I remember us living in," I could say as I moved closer to him for a hug I needed with these memories. "Lothering and Kirkwall were the only places we'd ever settled in for long.

"Did you know, Mother and Bethany waited much too late for Carver and I to return from Ostagar? They should have left before all ships became only refugee ships."

Anders tapped my nose before saying, "Don't focus on the 'what ifs,' love. Then both you and Carver might have died while fleeing. I doubt your mother and Bethany would have wanted that."

Still not feeling that satisfied with my decisions, I had to admit, "At least they got to see Carver again before he died." It still didn't help that much. I missed them all so much. Bethany may be alive, but I'd seen her less than a _week_ over almost ten years now, she'd become almost a phantom to me. It was getting harder to pretend I had any family, the longer I was away from our last home. It wasn't quite fair to expect Anders could make up for all that. I laid my cheek against his chest to feel his steady heartbeat.

"Oh, love," Anders said, while tightening his embrace and rocking us.

After a few more moments, I felt a nudge at my back, and Anders jerked his arm from around me. "I did not need dog slobber to make my day complete!"

I had to laugh, twisting around to scratch Big Paws' ears. When I looked up at Anders, his eyes were much more cheerful than his voice had been and he smiled.

Finding the old Imperial highway wasn't a problem: travel east to the lake, follow the coastline south as it circles around the lake until you reach Lothering. The weather was still chilly spring, but we didn't hurry. The Highway was its usual mix of decrepit and vital, though the bulk of the rock used to make the road was horrifying. I didn't think any rock here, or much of it at least, could be from the quarries in Kirkwall. That didn't make the sheer weight of it any better. How many slaves, and even how many 'lesser' mages, burnt out their lives to build this road that didn't even bow to the shape of the land?

A thousand years later, and it was still passable for the most part. Bridges were gone from storm or other disaster, but what remained still carried so many people and caravans. As we climbed the landings up to the highway, with chunks fallen and simpler repairs made, I almost wondered what the roads looked like in Tevinter. Not enough to go there, as cruelty still remained long after much of Thedas broke free.

As we circled Lake Calenhad, not many traveled the highway this early in spring. There really weren't any major towns near here, only villages that were small and far apart. Sometimes there were inns along the road, built below the roadbed, relying on the seeming timeless rock of the highway for support and shelter. Some were small and in fine condition, while others much larger and worn by the years. We didn't hurry along the west of the lake, resting if there was a spring storm. Redcliffe was still days away, and sad Lothering well beyond that.

After trudging across the ice on the raised road bed one day and slipping our way through too many near sprains, I was glad to see a fresh signpost for an inn. Carefully making our way down the stairs, I led, on the theory that I could recover better from a fall if I slipped. That was a bit optimistic, and Anders was having trouble keeping up with our injuries. We got down to the _Fettered Kestrel_, that featured an empty eyrie, and took the best and biggest room they had.

The lady owner was so glad to have customers and so talkative, that I felt I had to help with heating the water for our use. I learned that she and her husband were rebuilding an older inn and the work was going slowly as she was expecting. I dusted off my rusty knowledge of what to say, wishing. Wishing for family. I hadn't really planned for it, as I figured Carver or Bethany would find someone because I would be too busy looking out for them... I expected to be the most doting aunt ever. I disappointed my mother as I was her last hope for grandchildren once we'd gotten established in Hightown.

I'd counted it a kind of blessing in Kirkwall that we hadn't, but I had sometimes wished for it despite the risk from Vengeance. This made it difficult after a while to stay sympathetic to Mother's hopes and plans instead of bitter.

Once we had the bathing chamber to ourselves for the afternoon and warm water made toasty by Anders, a soak was wonderful. I felt summer warm for the first time in weeks while Anders examined the soap we'd just bought for bubble-making fun.

Before I finished dressing, I dragged Paws for a bath too. He pouted, and almost slunk back to our room with his fur still damp and a look of betrayal. It wasn't serious because he did that every time, but I promised to get him some stew when Anders and I went down for some dinner.

Anders played with Mew when I started Paws' bath with an absent expression on his face, but he left for the tavern room before we were done.

When I followed him down, I glanced up at the small hole in the hall ceiling just before the last steps to the tavern. It reminded me of all the unfinished and broken places I'd stayed: Gamlen's, Merrill's, Fenris' mansion, and even to the shed I barely remembered when we first arrived in Lothering. I wanted to visit there, to see if Lothering was as dead as the letters said or if Papa's memorial had survived the darkspawn.

_Others could not have thought much of it, a free-standing stone we'd chipped at slowly and carefully over the months before the Blight began, not knowing that we had a deadline. Mother hadn't wanted to come out of her room for many so days after he died, and even her share of farm chores weren't enough for to wear out my anger and grief. Carver was just as much a tit, wanting to be the man of the house at fifteen, even if he actually didn't want to **do** anything useful. We shouted at each other and Bethany hid in our room._

"_Your sister is the elder, Carver," Mother said to him finally, her eyes red rimmed and face pale as she left their bedroom. As soon as she'd spoken, she turned back into their room and shut the door firmly._

_My face was probably as red as his now, but Carver muttered venomously, "When will I be big enough to be a man? I'm more than a handspan taller now, and I can't twist myself enough to stay in your shadow like everyone wants."_

_With that, he strode out the door, and closed the door so quietly that slamming it would have been more peaceful. His impatience and temper were like mine, but I'd had to master mine before he was much past full sentences. I closed my eyes and counted. _

_When I stopped, I said to the empty room,"I don't know, brother. I didn't choose this."_

_Later I tracked him down, while he talked to one of the Templars. I waited to talk to him as soon as the man was called to some duty. Carver was already fuming about being nagged before I could speak._

_Once we were further from the Chantry I said, "Do you want to help make a memorial for Papa? We'd have to try to make it ourselves, maybe a simple carving. We can't put a statue up."_

_With a weak grimace he said, "I'd like that, I can do something that is important to **someone**."_

_It took several days, but we found a rock and some tools, and we let Carver choose where on the farm to put it, and he chose in a wild corner. We argued what to carve, but secrecy finally won over a more detailed carving with his name and accomplishments as those were illegal. That and the fact a simple carving was the best we thought we could make with our lack of experience._

_After some practice on smaller rocks, we got started, taking turns to make a relief on the side, that looked like the carving on Papa's favorite staff. Water and ice should not cause our carving to break up until the rock itself shifted in the soil. That week or two we got the most done, but the seasons changed and we worked on it fitfully over the months until the Blight came._

_The darkspawn sightings were getting more common every month, and Carver was wild to join the King's army. He finally enlisted weeks before the army gathered. Mother had been planning for us to leave for the Free Marches, some place neither she nor Papa had spoken much about. She'd already sent a letter and trunks to her brother in the care of some merchant guild, I made sure they weren't easy locks to pick. I noticed she'd packed things like Bethany's doll and Carver's old blankie. I wasn't sure he'd appreciate her saving it to embarrass him._

_Carver wanted to stay in Ferelden and fight the darkspawn. He would have tried to become a Gray Warden if he'd known how. He was old enough to enlist without Mother's permission; she couldn't stop him. I'd had a fight with Mother when she ordered me to go to the army too and keep an eye on him. No one mentioned why or how I was supposed to do much to protect a warrior like Carver, but we both knew it didn't matter. She knew she'd won when she reminded me that she didn't want to lose Carver, her baby, too._

_That duty had been drilled into me for eighteen years now, their lifetimes. It seemed another lifetime away, something I'd give most anything to have back. Then I cursed, Mother glared at me for my language, and I found the recruiter the next day, Testing well enough with bow and daggers, I got an enlistment bonus which I used to get drunk and get my tattoos. Carver was livid when he found out about both, but Mother made him promise to stay near me in the fighting._

_We weren't even close to the front lines at Ostagar, that was for veterans and Wardens, those unlikely to panic. I knew we'd lost when the Teyrn's forces never came when the beacon lit the sky behind our lines. They had to have been blind to miss that, or cowards. The darkspawn kept rolling forward, even minor injury thought a death sentence. We were lucky, the ogres were fighting a knot of probable Wardens well in front, and we only saw them in the distance. Instead of us holding the rear, those companies in front of us were demolished. Now I know we fought mostly tainted creatures and hurlocks, not the more dangerous darkspawn, but then I grabbed Carver and ordered him to flee. He growled and attacked a wounded 'spawn that had almost made it through our part of the line. _

_When he finished, I tackled him and slapped him, saying, "We've lost! Half the army fled like cowards. We aren't enough, we aren't Wardens! We have to get back to Mother and Bethany before the 'spawn do!"_

_Something behind me got his attention as he shook me off of him. I rolled and sprang with my daggers, instead of the bow I'd been using, to attack one of the genlocks that reached us. Shouting his agreement, we fled, barely staying much ahead of the horde for the first hours. Looking back, I caught more glimpses of the ogres stomping the already wounded, and maybe even an emissary, but I didn't know that then. It was just sheer horror, and knowing there was no army, no Wardens to stop the tide. They were demolishing the army and we had been betrayed._

_The spawn slowed and didn't bother to chase us all the way to Lothering, but again we didn't know. We fled along the old highway, barely resting, only to find Mother and Bethany were fine. Paws was glad to see me. Soldiers, Templars, and deserters like us reached the village even as more kept going. We packed a few things, and then dropped so many. The hardest to do was to not bring some keepsakes: my favorite quilt, some books, a stuffed bear the twins had once shared but Carver was too big to not object to bringing it. I said no to much more than dried fruit and meat. Water was too heavy to carry more than a little. Clothing, books, all the things we'd gained in Lothering. But it never lasted._

_We all were trying to figure how we could take more... but then I remembered a sight far distant across the battlefield: men in heavy armor flying in upward arcs. Not Mother. Not Bethany.._

_Carver met my eyes, and maybe for the first time as adults we truly agreed with each other. We nearly hauled them out of the house to begin our flight from Lothering just as the darkspawn were arriving._

Years had passed since Carver had died, years of fighting and deaths. Despite seeing his shade in the Gauntlet, I couldn't remember much about that clearing where he died. All I truly remembered was the ogre and the sickening crunch when Carver died... Mother's cry of anguish and the flavor of my bitter failure. Was there a trampled crop, or just a clearing in dirt? My memory insists on remembering it as a barren wasteland where nothing else lived as far as the eye could see. I knew it wasn't that way before the darkspawn even arrived, but that is how I remembered it. I wasn't even sure if I could find that clearing where Carver died now, still I hoped perhaps to find some sign. I hoped to add Carver's name to Papa's memorial too. It was plain rock, and should still be there. Mother had been the only one to have a full funeral, but did that even survive what Anders did? I should add Mother's name too.

Who else would remember them well now?

Even if they'd never met, Anders had Papa's staff, although the decoration had been disguised for months.

When I entered the tavern, I moved over to stand in front of the cheering fire for warmth and to stare into the flames. I wasn't that hungry and Anders was quietly enjoying an ale at the bar.

We'd talked about going to Amaranthine so I could maybe meet Ser Pounce and Anders could look for his phylactery again. Or if we could seek Flemeth in the Wild to the south. I still wanted to know what she meant when she'd been all cryptic about leaping and abysses. She was the dragon, after all. If she wanted change, we'd done enough of that to deserve a few answers. I wasn't sure if finding Flemeth was a good idea, but finding out what she meant was still bothering at me.

For once, we had nothing extremely urgent and I thought Anders could use the extra rest from travel in both armor and sword. I considered offering to help with repairs if the owners wanted help. I had a few tricks for repairs from Gamlen's house and helping Merrill, that I remembered learning from Papa.

_He'd spent so much time with Bethany and Carver... I tried not to resent it but I understood Carver's frustration so much more than I think he ever would admit. Over much of the winter, I wished I could have spoken longer with his shade in the Gauntlet, there he showed the man he would have become, the one I never knew. _

_I then felt guilty for wishing he'd survived instead of Bethany. _

An icy drip found its way onto my head, and I got more determined to offer help. The taproom was warm, welcoming, and nearly empty. I wondered if many road weary people could find the inn from the small sign on the old highway.

Anders sat at the bar, so he could talk to the owner as he drank. His sword was propped against the wall and he was addressing a refilled mug of ale with no little glee. I had to smile, as he had bemoaned his inability to get drunk for all the time I'd known him, and his spirit had lightened his disapproval.

Deciding to move over to join him, I was about to make a joke when I saw a heavily armed and armored mercenary clap a hand on his shoulder and pull him away from his drink.

_Templar hunters, here?_

_- x -_

_A/N: Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	2. With Freedom Comes the Duty

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

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**Western Lake Calenhad Highway, _The Fettered Kestrel_ tavern **

**Hawke:**

I moved to the Templar's back in a flash, drawing my daggers and stabbing her. I just missed a clean kill, my throat aching from my shout.

"Hawke, don't!" Anders called, casting a spell.

Worried about what was wrong with him, I paused, even as the woman leaped into an evasion, landing still close range. Her weapon was out now, a long sword with much longer reach and... she was fast, moving faster than I expected. The shield was smaller than Aveline's but well worn and blank of sigil.

The barkeep dove for cover. Smart I maybe, the usual reaction when blood flowed. I thought we could take her, even if she was a full Templar hunter who wanted to ambush us. We'd killed so many of those who'd attacked us, what was one more?

_Maker, I hope this isn't a full Templar_, I thought as her shield smashed into me.

Anders finished casting even as my head rang and I was seeing funny lights. He moved over towards me and reached for a rag.

I could only blink as he scolded and murmured at me as he examined the bump on my forehead. I could only tell from his tone, the sounds made no sense.

What surprised me was when he clearly said, "Commander, startling her is a very bad idea..."

"I get that now," the woman said ruefully, trying to reach to where I'd knifed her.

Still not thinking very clearly, I could only blink at the expression of worry on Anders' face.

He wasn't angry, like he usually was when Vengeance saw a Templar.

The outside door opened and a smiling man in the purple Fereldan Templar gear entered. "Are you sure Dagna had the correct information for... Oh, never mind." Then he noticed the spilled blood and clutched at his sword for a second as he rushed to the mercenary's side.

"Are you seeing right, love?" Anders asked me, waving a hand in front of my face.

Wanting to do something about the murmuring Templar so close to us, I gripped Anders' shoulder to shove him aside. Our odds were worse now with two of them and my head full of sloshing gravy.

Justice hadn't manifested.

_Why not?_

"But..." was all I could manage to say, even as Anders started to check my eyes. His brow was creased and eyes shined. I admired his lashes and decided, yet again, that calling his eyes amber was just too trite. They were much prettier.

"When did you start using a shield, Commander?" Anders asked as he cast another healing spell on me.

"My insistence, after that business with the Architect," the Templar said as he checked on this warrior instead of attacking Anders. He was speaking politely to Anders even as Anders was healing me with open magic.

I could not make these facts fit together.

But the Architect rang a bell, it sounded more like a dozen bells echoing right now, and something snapped into place again. I shook my head slowly.

"I would appreciate it if you could finish healing her," the Templar demanded, with a high-class accent, that rang a clearer bell this time.

Anders patted me on the shoulder before moving to do another healing spell on the woman. He didn't object or argue or bristle.

Looking at the Templar more closely, I recognized him now; he'd been in warden armor and with Bethany during the Qunari attacks years ago. That meant, from what Anders had mentioned much later, that this Commander was... _Oh, Maker, this was The Warden, the one who slew the Archdemon._ I wanted the floor to swallow me.

When the bartender poked his head up again... the other warden told him kindly, "Sorry about the mess. Everything is fine I think, this happens to us all the time. This is Grey Warden business."

The bartender quickly set some a small kettle of stew and some bread out and did a good job of vanishing. Anders and Alistair, I guessed, settled to eat as soon as they smelled the stew, taking heaping helpings of what had been brought out. I snuck a look at the Warden wary of doing anything else; I scooped an extra bowl for Paws.

Wary of the Warden's reaction to what I'd nearly done, I kept watching her without being obvious... I hoped. I saw how expensive her armor was, it looked like dragon hide, even if it wasn't a Warden uniform. So they weren't Templars after Anders' hide, which was a pleasant change over most, but his comments worried me that they had been looking for Anders.

A whistle, and an even burlier mabari came in. Paws had been bred from culls of Bann lines; this one was scary with how much more muscled he was.

"Perhaps we should move this business to a more private place," Anders suggested, meeting my eyes.

Shrugging, I waved my agreement. I didn't know what to say after attacking the Hero of Ferelden. She was about my age, and I had no idea how she'd gotten training with the longer blades and shield. She was a rogue according to Anders, but she looked like a warrior far more than we were pretending.

Soon we were all in our room. They met Ser Mew and Paws, and my mabari decided that the other one, Mouser, was dominant by the way he rolled over.

Finally we settled in our room with Anders and I on the bed while they had a bench. I'd given some stew to Paws and ate mine without even looking up, hoping to be unnoticed.

Anders asked in a loud whisper after a long silence, "Are they going to talk soon?"

Alistair shrugged and asked, "How quickly do rogues warm up again?"

"Well, there is Isabela..." Anders said with a smirk.

That made both of them react, Alistair flushing and the Warden shaking her head and rubbing her forehead. So they both knew her too. Did everyone know her? I was beginning to feel left out.

I had to protest. "Varric is warm to pretty much everyone, you have to really work hard to get him mad at you."

Anders flushed now, and I reached out to hold him close, whispering an apology. I hadn't wanted to remind him as I was ambivalent about Varric too. I trusted him and I didn't as much trust him as before.

Coughing after a moment, the Warden started to speak... and I wanted to make a face, I was doing it too.

The Warden Commander finally spoke, "Anders, what the shit did you think you were doing?"

Anders stiffened and pulled back a little from me, I could see in his eyes that Justice was still quiet.

Touching my hand only now, he turned towards them and asked with a faint smile, "Which time? Back in Amaranthine with that ass? Fleeing to Kirkwall? More recently in Kirkwall Chantry? Since then near Orzammar?"

"All of it," she said with a snarl, "You know I count goodwill and results, and I'm not convinced of your goodwill anymore. Feel free to start with that fuck up where you slaughtered a bunch of idiots outside Amaranthine. That was an excellent imitation of being demon possessed. A performance worthy of all the Chanty's idiotic claims."

Anders' hand twitched and I felt the shift, even as Justice said, "_**Commander...**_"

The Commander's face softened into sadness, "Ah, my friend, I had hoped it was some other spirit, as those acts in Kirkwall did not ring of justice at all. Anders would not really deserve the retribution for your acts."

"_**They were **__**our**__** decisions once we joined, Commander. We are responsible,**_" Justice admitted. "_**Spirits do not make pawns of their hosts as demons do, and Vengeance is gone. We rarely disagreed for long.**_"

Crossing his arms, Alistair angrily demanded, "Then what about your brother Wardens? Do you even know how many you slaughtered? I hadn't believed it was you staying in Kirkwall until I saw you during that Qunari attack..."

"Do you want your amulet back?" I interrupted, hoping to calm things a little before anyone got too angry.

He paused and looked surprised, and the Commander nodded and mouthed 'please.' So I dug it out from my pack and gave it carefully back to him. Taking a deeper breath he looked at it, then popped it open to see the miniature still inside. Looking at me with puzzlement, he was speechless.

I shrugged and said, "It was important from what you didn't say, and I saw the repairs. I meant to give it to Bethany to return later, but I forgot, with everything else that happened."

"_**Hawke,**_" Justice said firmly, "_**We must answer for what we've done if there are any who would judge fairly. For that charge in the Arling, it was betrayal and ambush, without any comradeship, justice, or mercy on their part. It was far more Templar injustice than Warden pragmatism. There was no justice in killing us as we'd done no crime nor threatened harm before they tried to murder the mage. This only reinforced that the mage cause was just to me.**_"

"We won't argue the mage cause, Justice," the Warden Commander said angrily. "I've been convinced of that ever since I got a good look at the Ferelden tower. But part of the reason I was transferred out of Ferelden was that I interfered in politics too much for the First Warden's comfort. The crap at the Vigil delayed my recruiting among the casteless dwarves, in the Alienage and the Circle. If only..." She paused and looked at Alistair with a question and he nodded in response. "Justice, if only you'd waited and spoken to me that you'd planned this. I would have been willing to cover for you for a while. I already knew of another mage who'd been hosting a spirit of faith for some time by then."

Turning sharply in her direction, Anders nearly shouted, "What? Another mage? Who? When?" He'd _never_ found another like himself in his research in Kirkwall, despite all we'd done discreetly.

Smiling, she said, "She managed the clever trick of reviving herself in battle. Other than some long philosophical conversations and warnings she didn't expect to live after the Archdemon was defeated she seemed fine to me. Even months later in Amaranthine."

Thinking, Anders asked in wonder, "Wynne? She taught in the classes about resisting temptation."

"I haven't heard that she died, so I have to assume she's still alive," the Commander smirked. "I have enough contacts around Thedas for that news."

"Yeah, she's lost out on embarrassing me for so many_ years_ now," Alistair grumbled enough to be funny.

"Maker, I wish I'd known about this years ago," Anders grumbled in turn. "Just knowing someone else was still sane would have helped me, helped us. I was so close to looking for her in Cumberland."

"I wouldn't reveal her secrets without good reason, anymore than I would have for you as a warden reporting to me," the Commander said with some exasperation.

At least I remembered her name was Cousland now. She'd have fit right in, in Hightown.

"But you weren't in Kirkwall, Attryne," Anders reminded her. "The Veil there is in far worse shape than Blackmarsh had been. Demons could cross without tempting a mage in their dreams. Almost every mage sank to blood magic over the years, something worse than that Baroness by far. It would have been worse if we hadn't acted as we did."

"Oh, in what way compared to such destruction? You two have done a lot of damage, beyond my ability to fix, no matter how just it was," Attryne said with an annoyance very familiar to me.

I felt the tingle as Justice manifested again to say, "_**You were there when it started, Commander. The Baroness cast some magic that prevented my return to the Fade. Without some kind of host, I would have become a kind of rage spirit or dangerous abomination, and we got too close to that as it was, from a demon's whispering. When we joined, Anders couldn't walk the Fade in dreams either, the same way I was blocked. He was a spirit healer when we joined but he no longer could hear any others or reach the Fade. The only time we felt the Fade was under Dalish spells, through all the years since.**_"

"So you need Anders' connection to the Fade to stay sane?" Alistair asked thoughtfully.

"_**I am the stuff of the Fade. I cannot heal properly or rest without a living host with at least some link. That is probably why... abominations are so crazed, they seize on a mage's link to the Fade and are drunk with power.**_" Justice sighed like Anders, rare for the times he spoke openly. After a brief pause, he admitted, "_**We do not know why we are as stable as we have been. We had supposed that Anders' Joining was a factor, but this news about another spirit healer who was not a Warden makes this less likely.**_"

"What happens when a spirit is defeated here, but can't return to the Fade?" I asked Alistair, remembering our realization. While I'd often been angry at Justice, he was a part of the Anders I loved.

"I would have thought it would be truly destroyed, like any mortal's body," Alistair said with a frown. "But I do not know, as that raises the nastier question as to what happens to a mortal soul if they are blocked from the Fade, how can they go on? That makes 'Tranquility' far, far worse than they claim. Simple death is more merciful. Something here is not right for one of the Maker's first children, either."

Still sounding annoyed, the Warden asked impatiently, "Did you speak to Jean-Maurice about this, Justice? No, never mind, I doubt he would have cared about a spirit Warden. He grew up under the Divine's direct oversight and they probably still itch to take back Ferelden. He's damn good at pissing off the people he's supposed to protect." Sitting back on the bench, she mused, "I wish we had more senior wardens from Ferelden, the bastard alienated too many like you, Anders, or simply lost people from his command like Sigrun. I cannot like this as we still haven't surpassed the roster under Duncan's leadership."

"Maybe it's time to use Anora's authority, my lady," Alistair said angrily. "The wardens in Ferelden have lost too much trust from his actions, but we are senior of Fereldans recruited. And your place as senior anywhere cannot be gainsaid, _**now.**_ Our assignments have often been make work. The Divine and Qunari are restive too, and the Maker only knows what the Tevinters are doing in response to this chaos."

"We don't have much authority beyond Ferelden. I don't really want to cause a schism within the Grey Wardens either. Being an Arlessa won't mean much when we usually give up titles unless it benefits the Wardens," Attryne said with a small smile which faded away after a second into almost anger, "I need results and straight behavior until there is a new First Warden... which brings us back to you, Anders."

Anders shrank down. Justice must be in agreement as well. It was hard to reconcile the Warden-Commander who slaughtered Templars to help Anders, with this glaring woman.

Putting an arm around Anders, I coughed and announced, "I'm sorry I tried to kill you, ser. I thought you were Templar hunters." I wondered if groveling could help in the face of anger from someone Anders'd always described fondly.

"_We're much worse, Champion_," the Warden-Commander admitted with a growl. "We'll break any law, any tradition, or any heart to defeat the blight or make sure we are better prepared for the next one. But this war or wars that are surely coming now cannot help but make our vigilance impossible as long as they rage. We cannot remain completely neutral, as much as the First Warden would like it. Some existing forces already work against our fighting darkspawn, and we waste effort with them."

Alistair said solemnly, "In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. You seem to have forgotten that, mage."

His arm around me almost convulsing, Anders and Justice cried, _**"No!**_ That Chantry peace for the mages is only death, coming fast or slow. How would your battles against the Archdemon or the Mother have gone if you had not mages, mages free and powerful enough to help you? _**What has been done to them is not justice.**_"

"Shut up, Justice!" she shouted with her blade suddenly at his throat and the other ready, while Alistair stood up over us.

They were to close and too experienced for me to even hope to stop them in time. Neither Anders nor Justice seemed to want to fight.

The Warden was looming only a handspan away from their face. "We'd known where you were for how many years now? You shouldn't have been cornered like that by Roland, I made sure third parties within the Wardens saw the evidence of their plans. Your slate isn't clean from that, but it has softened among the Wardens. Especially when we could show proof you'd been doing a warden's work in Deep Roads and helping the Champion, even if you went rogue. You know warden policy is whatever it takes for us to fight the darkspawn better, and a single apostate who may have done something stupid isn't even a distant second on the priority list. They screwed up, the only decision for me is to decide if you or they screwed up more, if you are too dangerous to let live."

Anders squeezed my hand tightly, even as Justice manifested fully and said calmly, "_**A judgment then.**_"

"You're forever a Grey Warden, whether you like it or not," Alistair growled. "It would be better if the Champion wasn't here while we speak to you about your actions."

"She stays," Anders insisted to my relief. "She's already had to deal with warden crap enough, and Seneschal Varel and Mistress Woolsey weren't wardens either, and they knew more than we did at the Vigil."

"Not that much anymore," the Commander said, lowering her blade a little, though she still looked angry. "You know how much necessity rules Warden actions, Anders... Justice. Alistair?"

He nodded and brought out an old goblet. Anders began shaking in anger and glowing.

_- x -_

_A/N: The chapter title is adapted from a quote by PJ O'Rourke. Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	3. The Duty to Accept Consequences

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Lake Calenhad, a room at _The Fettered Kestrel_**

**Anders:**

Not that blasted cup. This one even looked just like the one Varel used, though it had still been at the Vigil when the Warden-Commander left. While it looked more battered than the one I remembered, I wasn't sure if I was imagining stains in the metal. Then I realized the only reason they'd need one.

I gritted my teeth and objected, "No! Don't conscript her! I'm begging you. Please, Attryne. I want one good thing in my life that I didn't screw up."

Alistair looked offended. "Joining the Wardens isn't an honor?"

"There is no blight now, she has no taint, and Maker help me, she deserves the lifetime _we_ won't get," I insisted over the pit in my stomach.

"She let you live. The accounts of that day are pretty clear that there were enough demands for you be cut down. She approved of what you did. Her life is just as forfeit if Templars catch you now," Attryne countered.

"Wardens have a duty, and _you_ have a duty to the Wardens," Alistair said grimly, "a duty that **cannot** be forsworn."

Maker, those words were etched on my soul from my Joining, even before reenforced by Kristoff's memories. I knew that running was useless at the end, I couldn't run from my own blood, but I wanted to deny that dark and crushing destiny as long as possible.

I had no choice, but Hawke should.

If a Blight began next month, I could not flee it, not when Dera would die if an Archdemon rose. Mages in Circles or inexperienced at freedom would be helpless like most of Kinloch hold had been if a blight horde rolled over them. They would need us, and freedom is less imperative within the barren waste of the Anderfels after two blights. I'd heard from too many, how places here in Ferelden were still barren after a 'little' blight that lasted only a year. I didn't want to think now of how many must have died during what some idiots called 'true' blights.

But none who'd been a Grey Warden during the fifth Blight denied it was an Archdemon.

Templars could leave, marry or become drunken sots. But if a Grey Warden was on his deathbed and a darkspawn appeared, he would try to kill it_. I'd seen so much of that in the bodies at the Vigil before my Joining, in those Wardens with horrifying injuries; the bloody trail and weapons broken and discarded lay there before I saw their corpses next to one or more darkspawn. It was a disturbing display, after we'd finished clearing the darkspawn. Oghren and Attryne showed little reaction, they'd fought the Archdemon and its massed forces. Mhairi tried to appear as jaded even if she had fought in Denerim too. _

_I knew what injuries killed all too well even then. I wondered if Wardens became some kind of inhuman killing machine, like some legendary dwarven golem? But no, I learned Wardens were very human, bleeding and grieving and sparing nothing to defeat the darkspawn. Most became very dead._

_Once I survived my Joining, I'd seen my first new Warden death. Then I felt not just fear and anger at the darkspawn that I'd feel for any monster, but I felt it in my marrow how they somehow reached out, hating life. Even demons needed life to escape the Fade usually. Darkspawn didn't even have emotions beyond hunger and destruction of the living, human or animal. They made nothing but mockeries in Ka'Hirol or anywhere they had sway; it was so very clear even before my Taint had settled in. _

_I didn't know how other Wardens felt, we never really spoke about it. But fighting darkspawn was like fighting a disease: there was no other option, and if you could save one more with how you died, you had to fight. _

_It didn't even take a Blight, as I'd learned on Bartrand's expedition. As soon as I sensed them, anything I'd ever cared about was at risk, more than just my own life. Mages... Karl... Hawke. I had to protect them from that dark Void. _

_I'd tried not to even think about broodmothers, beyond praying to the Maker to never see one again. They were the opposite of life._

Gravely, Attryne asked me, "How many times now have you pushed your luck, that she hasn't been tainted already? How many times have she fought darkspawn over the years?"

Ducking under Attryne's sword, I turned to embrace Dera. It had been one of my recurring nightmares since Vengeance had been healed, especially with the short list of our possible hiding places. My heart sinking, I whispered, "Do you want to be a Warden, love? It might be safer, but... I have enough nightmares for both of us. I don't want you trapped." Unsaid in my question was my offer... no, _our_ offer I felt, that we would do our best to get her free if we had to.

Whispering back right into my ear, she said so quietly I could barely hear, "I was actually hoping we might have a baby."

"What? You would?" I leaned back, forgetting to stay in a whisper.

"I couldn't say anything while Vengeance was present," Dera whispered. "But isn't a new life both defiance and hope for the future of mages in one small, smelly package?"

_Maker, yes._ A family. The freedom to have a family like Dera and Bethany had known. Something none in the Circle had, only lust was possible in there, not making a future. Something I'd never really thought of, but maybe I would free her to seek if I was stronger. Part of me started trying to figure out what might help serve my bubbling joy under the fear.

Out loud I said to Attryne, "No, Commander. Please. Try me, don't conscript her. She knew nothing about what I was planning."

"We don't always get a choice, Anders," the Warden-Commander said with some regret and grief in her voice. "I hereby conscript Hawke, known as the Champion of Kirkwall into the Grey Wardens."

Alistair started to say something, but didn't.

Having that hope ripped away so quickly, I could only hold onto Hawke and howl. "No! Don't do this!"

I didn't care whatever plan they thought they had, and asked for the spirit's help one last time. My throat choked as I couldn't even speak through my fear and anger. I could protect her from my nightmares and the Deep Roads, I wanted her to not have to die in the dark, but fly free in the clean air...

My magic swelled and I could feel Justice manifesting as well. Then it was snuffed out, and even Justice's objection was muted as my head rocked from a slap from behind.

"You two settle down!" Attryne shouted. "And **yes,** many are lucky enough to have wanted and competed to become Wardens. I don't think they survive the taint as well or even combat. I've seen too many starry-eyed like Mhairi over the years who don't survive their Joining. They can't always handle the grim reality of life as a Warden and fight the taint. Those who are already survivors, fight the taint better. Look at the ones who Joined at the Vigil, Anders. Half died who wanted it. The rest of you who had no real choice, all made it. Including you."

A hand gripped my shoulder and Alistair added, "It does afford the Champion some protection as well, as it wipes her slate clean, by treaties. None of the tales have her causing the explosion. Even Orlesian Wardens should assist her, as she acted to stabilize the situation by removing the lyrium-addled and the blood magic-addled; she used the resources available to her, including you. She didn't take rulership or act as kingmaker, something the First Warden frowns on." Alistair finished with the ghost of a smile.

I held Hawke so tightly, and my ribs ached from her hold as well. "I want to give her something real, something longer than I have left. Something _good_."

The Commander's voice rang behind me. "How many times has she already faced darkspawn like her sister? Even while trying to avoid darkspawn, we cannot. They know where we are and we are drawn to them. How many times can she avoid the taint? She will be better able to fight. Do you really think she will let you go to your Calling alone if she gave you mercy that day?"

Hawke froze.

"Love? You didn't, you wouldn't..." _Not into the darkness with me..._

Smiling faintly, Dera met my eyes. "Always, until the day we die. It was only a pipe dream."

Touching her face where a tear had spilled over, the others didn't matter right now. "But it was your dream, love. And I have spent little enough time making those come true."

"You're still with me, _still alive and still sane_. That's the most important dream," Dera said with her eyes locked with mine fiercely.

I pulled her into another tight embrace, partly as I didn't know what to say. Mostly with shame, as she still didn't believe in my offer, in me, as easily as she once did.

"Now see, Alistair. Joinings are much better if they have a good clinch beforehand," Attryne said with a smirk I could hear.

"I only met you that day. What kind of Warden did you think I was?" Alistair spoke in a snotty rich man's voice. "I really didn't know the other two either, that I wanted to give them any ideas about swooping."

"Maybe they won't panic this way?" the Commander asked, her face grim.

Sighing now, Alistair replied as Hawke and I pulled apart. "It still must be only Wardens at the Joining, better his wife thought he died heroically at Ostagar..."

"Let's get this over with," Hawke interrupted them with a catch in her voice.

Attryne admitted, "We'll leave in the morning. I may have this cup, but I don't carry all the ritual components with me. Only a few bases have what we need, and I would prefer having you on the First Warden's official roll as soon as possible."

_Oh, no. Official roll. Is she insane?_ I asked myself, still off-balance. "The only base I know of near here is the one outside Orzammar. Sigrun was there."

"Yes, the last ingredient is kept there in addition to the handy darkspawn. It was scattered to major posts throughout Thedas, as we hoped we chose stable locations to last until the next Blight. The only other stockpiles relatively close are Orlais, Kirkwall, and Vigil's Keep," Alistair explained. "The first two are risky for Anders."

"Maybe not, with his change in appearance," Attryne grinned, "but Orzammar will be fine. Bhelen's a strong Warden ally now."

After they left our room, I felt less small without their presence somehow.

I pulled Hawke close, hoping against hope. "Love, we _can_ leave now. We can flee and be far beyond their reach; we can find a quiet place for the rest of our days." Caressing her stomach, I added, "We can find some way to have a family, start our own little circle with rogues and mages and kittens."

It was such a golden vision that I'd never considered throughout those years in Kirkwall, when I'd been caught up in what I believed to be my duties. But those duties now passed, perhaps for good if we ran far enough.

Apostates could have a family, I was holding the proof and I wanted that in a way I'd wanted few things. Not just for mages, but for Hawke with only ashes of the family she'd had.

Hawke chuckled, ""You'll need to recruit some more cats for that."

"That will be easy, but not as much fun as this," I said as I kissed her. I wished I could ensure it, that I could find some lore or magic to ensure a healthy child.

"Anders..." Dera said hesitantly. "How many want you dead? Want me dead too? I can't fault their logic. It somehow benefits her plans, obviously. As Wardens, we gain allies. Some others may think we're under their controls. I only wonder _what_ Cousland intends."

Sighing, I admitted, "I really don't know, love. I haven't seen her, seen them, for ten years. You are already skilled at killing darkspawn, I think just about every kind but broodmothers over the years. Wardens collect competence. Being Champion and Warden will be useful to Wardens as a reminder that they can take anyone, even if you didn't go into the Deep Roads for them." I shoved away the memories of the Mother and Architect. Conscripting the Champion of Kirkwall would be so very influential far beyond Kirkwall itself.

Afraid to ask, I did anyway. "You're willing, aren't you? Why, love?

Her voice softened as her eyes filled. "Silly mage. You know."

I knew, she was still fulfilling her early pledge, to keep us, keep me, safe. My own errors cleansed by her Joining. Maker, I didn't think I could feel any worse than that Moment in Lowtown, so I tried to surround her body to shield her from my foolishness, my heart hurting.

Still, I would not wear their damned uniform.

_- x -_

In the morning, Attryne seemed a bit surprised to see me. I might have felt more annoyed if I hadn't been hoping to run. Justice showed his disapproval at the idea of running this time, even if he'd stayed blessedly silent last night. I really didn't want to think about which if us had changed that he wasn't nagging me as at Amaranthine. Confidence that Hawke wouldn't run, approval if we had run, or belief that I'd fail in escape yet again. I knew he approved of the Grey Wardens.

_**They have a duty, rarely have I heard of any truly shirking it. Darkspawn are a threat, even if not as widespread now. The mages were in greater need of justice, but the padlock has been broken in the cells, if they step out now.**_

_You, using lock analogies? Dera has been a bad influence on you. _ I had to grin at that, even if I could almost feel him frown with annoyance.

_**Mage freedom is very much a matter of cages and cells. We are not thieves!**_

I had to chuckle at him. _Don't deny it. You've approved of many thieves over the years, Sigrun, Attryne, Varric, and even Hawke._

_**They serve just causes... not just themselves.**_

_Yes, I noticed. _

Hawke went to the bar to get food for us, while the Commander went outside.

Alistair looked at me and he was wearing Warden armor now, so much for being discreet. "How soon can you be ready to ride for Orzammar?"

He always had put me on edge when he'd visited the Vigil, just from knowing he'd been trained as a Templar. Sampson hadn't really rejected their policies, only the way lyrium had been denied keep him obedient; he rejoined quickly enough. I really did not want to think about some of Justice's memories of Alistair's training with him. Attryne had long insisted Alistair hadn't wanted to be a Templar and got out before any vows. She'd wanted me to see that the Wardens had freed him from the Templars like me. He seemed too nice for a Templar, but I never forgot that no Templars came looking to capture him because he left.

So I answered sourly, "Until we have horses or a dragon to ride."

Alistair blanched a little. "No, no. We can do without riding a dragon. All that swooping down low over the swamp muck when held in her claws. Swooping very bad. Just like losing your breakfast." A breath later he added, "Horses are much better, we'll have to find a calm one for you then, Warden Anders."

I'd been enjoying his reaction until he used my name, so with a glare I reminded him, "Things are much more peaceful if my name isn't used."

"You, mage, are being brought back into the fold, as it were." He spoke with a slight smile and a glint in his eyes. "The Commander still hasn't decided what to do with you. If only you wore the uniform, you could almost become anonymous again."

_He really doesn't hate me for what I did, does he? Why?_

Maybe I said it out loud, as he answered. "I have seen more than enough abuses by Templars in my travels. If the cause was that holy they wouldn't need to use lyrium to keep them pliable. Kirkwall was one of the worst, and Wardens reported on that corrupted lyrium at the Gallows. Hawke was the only chance at a compromise, a solution where neither side won but the mages had some relief, and that was blocked. The Grand Cleric promoted Merideth and that's her responsibility to the Maker for her entire flock. Only the Maker knows what she was trying to prove, but if the Qun attack wasn't enough to prove the Templars there couldn't handle a real emergency, nothing would."

While I was thinking about that, Hawke brought some kind of porridge-like paste, that tasted much better than it looked.

Commander Attryne came in, not looking pleased, "Closest place to get any horses not suited for the plow is Redcliffe."

Alistair looked unusually glum at that, and Attryne closed to take his arm.

We set off for the former village which had expanded since the Blight. Alistair alternated between telling wild stories of a flying dog pack when he was young and remaining silent. After he fell into silence, Hawke asked for an introduction to the kennel master when we arrived there.

That became an engrossing topic for all of _them._ The topic of mabari breeding, training, and health occupied them on and off for the days it took us to reach the the seat of the Arling.

I made the almost obligatory comment about the doggy smell, but got glared at by everyone except Ser Mew.

It was almost restful to travel with them, since we didn't have to be quite as careful. Even if they weren't recognized every time by people we met, even belligerent travelers didn't challenge the two of them, and I wasn't quite sure why. They weren't scarred and oozing menace, none of us were.

Redcliffe didn't look like it had seen a demon wave like I'd been told. The former Templar led us to a much larger livery than I would have expected from a town this small. He spoke seriously with the owner as we pretended to be interested, though that might have been just me.

By the time they'd examined, made friendly-with, argued about, and paid for two horses, an older uniformed guard arrived and stood nearby waiting for us to finish. Alistair turned to face him, slowly. I'd seen him fighting in Kirkwall, and he wasn't slow.

Sounding upper class again, Alistair raised a brow and said, "Yes?"

"His lordship has requested that you might favor him with a visit, Master Theirin, he..."

Alistair interrupted him after looking at the Commander. "Will he finally give his blessing..."

The soldier looked down with embarrassment. "No, the invitation was _only_ for you."

"I... see," Alistair admitted, looking off into the sky. Smiling wanly, he cupped Attryne's face briefly and said to the messenger, "I won't ask again. Here, give him this." He pulled the amulet that Hawke had returned to him a few nights ago and gave it to the soldier.

When I looked at Hawke, I could see she didn't know what this was about. Attryne did, but she didn't say anything either. The soldier looked puzzled, but took it and left.

Stepping outside leading the new horses, Alistair was too quiet for him when Attryne spoke to him. "Sorry, love. I didn't think he'd be this angry for so long."

"I've spent more years with a certain Warden-Commander, than I lived here," Alistair said with some peevishness. His face shifted to a sad humor. "Though I must admit the zombie and demon era was not my favorite. They scared away the pack of flying dogs."

"They were very good parents," Attryne smiled. "Though they didn't help you enough with public speaking."

Their tone rang of long grief and neither Hawke nor I decided to comment.

We weren't that comfortable with riding horses, Kirkwall had been too much of steep and narrow rock. Later, horses drew attention, they were for the rich or in service.

I felt a pang when I realized that was to be true for Hawke and I very soon now. So for a time, at least, I would have to learn how to ride a horse with more skill. It would not last long, horses usually didn't live long when facing darkspawn, they could not travel the Deep Roads.

We visited the kennel of a mabari breeder and Hawke was wistful after she greeted the puppies. Next was the Deep Roads, though, so I had no idea when we'd be able to return.

"We can come back after we're done with this crap," I whispered into her ear as the other Wardens spoke with the breeder.

With a sigh and suspiciously wet eyes, Hawke admitted, "I'm beginning to doubt we will ever have enough quiet for that."

The Commander called us over, saying, "There is a herbal thing that protects mabari, I've been afraid to ask what it is, but he will pass the recipe on, and maybe some khaddis if you want, Champion."

Taking my hand, Hawke pulled me along with her. The older man, who looked like he should be grizzled but spoke in a light voice, told me that it contained the tiniest sample of darkspawn blood. It didn't always 'take' but they didn't die from the taint.

I wondered if Attryne had ever asked the details, but then she'd never learned much about herbs. I pulled out a journal and recorded the recipe. I would have to study it.

The trip to Orzammar was almost too quiet. The weather was warming, and we only had one altercation while we were in camp. Bandits. Very stupid bandits. Very dead bandits to attack Wardens.

We had no excuse to scatter and leave the other Wardens and _I could not convince Hawke to run..._

_- x -_

_A/N: The chapter title is adapted from the continuation of the quote by P. J. O'Rourke. Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated as I do a little Snoopy dance when I get review._


	4. Demanding Atonement for Victims

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Tevinter Highway, nearing Orzammar**

**Anders:**

The old Tevinter highway was slowly falling apart from mountain weather before it quite reached the dwarven thaig, so we traveled the less monumental road through the pass again. This was the path we took in the autumn while leaving. So it was familiar to us.

Only a few miles away from the thaig entrance, some scouts in Warden uniform met us. Led by a respectful Ednund, they offered their escort back to the outpost.

Inside the familiar Warden hall, Sigrun was a little surprised to see all of us, nearly tackling Attryne with a hug and then punching Alistair's shoulder before she hugged Hawke and I as well.

As they all chattered, I was quiet. I had not really had anything to say for the last day.

Our lack of more than smiles in return to her greetings cued her in to something, and she looked at us all searchingly. "Got a mission, Commander? I'm your dead woman."

"Just a quick one to find some darkspawn, Sigrun," the Commander admitted. She looked at Hawke and I searchingly. "We can catch up afterward."

My face felt like a mask, from trying to hide my unhappiness from Hawke. _I hoped._ I'd always been close enough to touch Hawke since she'd decided that we weren't running. As much as I didn't want to see her die and I still hoped she'd flee, I'd stay with her. I'd _never_ really thought she might die before me. I thought as long as I lived I could keep her from going into the Fade one more time. I'd expected my fighting for mages would kill me first.

But I wanted to be with her through this, I needed to. If I had to close her eyes after that cup, that would be the start of my Calling. She'd kept me human through Vengeance's siege and my own excess.

The Commander better not try to deny me that.

Sigrun grew solemn too, probably spotting how I'd gripped Hawke with a near spasm. She'd already counted herself as dead and had already said her goodbyes before she met us to become a Grey Warden. I was sure she'd seen her share of deaths since her ceremony with Velanna.

It only took a day or so to go through the cleared areas deep enough to find some genlocks; only Sigrun was with us and hanging back. This was really a formality, as Hawke could take down an emissary on her own now. I knew from talks at the Vigil, this was the minimum last test to see if a candidate could face darkspawn without folding.

This was a decade too late for that; she'd killed her first ogre before I met her.

They were a small group, only a few hurlocks, and by the time I'd activated my defenses, Hawke had already killed three of them. The rest took barely any longer

I collected the vial with shaking hands, wanting only to smash it, but Hawke rubbed my shoulders, catching on my tense muscles until I managed to force myself to relax. Tucking it into my belt pouch, I pulled her against me, whispering again, but she shook her head and kissed my forehead before we turned to leave the Deep Roads again.

When the archway into the Orzammar Commons was in view, I interrupted their chatter by giving Sigrun the vial of ichor, saying, "Sigrun, we are resting first."

"Anders," she warned.

"She will be there, Sigrun," I said with a sigh. "Leave us this, please."

Striding out towards the gate, I pulled Dera outside with me, glaring at anyone in our path. The short, ash-covered path was still a little slippery from the ice and snow in these mountains. But we made it inside the familiar safehouse again and past the common hall and to... my room, one of the few for those with partners.

I doubted many had partners.

If the Maker smiled... room would be officially be ours. I wasn't completely sure if that qualified as the Maker smiling. Unlike at the Vigil, the candidate's survival was far more important to me and much more feared.

Nearly attacking her with my kisses once the door was shut, sorrow and fear filled me far more than my usual joy. I wanted our time, this time, to last forever, with me telling Dera my feelings over and over.

Later in the dark of the night as I held her close, Dera turned on her side to face me and brushed a bit of hair off my face. Being underground, only the dimmest of glows came from a dwarven lamp, no moonlight ever reached these rooms.

I grew almost afraid of whatever she intended to say.

"Anders?" Dera whispered.

My acknowledgment was more like a sigh.

She returned my sigh and traced on my chest before speaking again. "It will be all right, love. If people like the Knight Commander have the slightest chance of going to the Maker's side, we do too. Stay with the Wardens for a few years before you do anything stupid. Promise me."

It was both harder and easier to talk in the darkness. "Hawke, too many die in their Joinings. I won't be able to stop it, won't be able to save you this time. I'm only still human because of you, I would have been killed in Kirkwall long ago. We can still leave and flee into the wilds or someplace hidden. The Wardens don't really need you, need us. I need you. Let's go, we can be far away in a day."

I felt disapproval from Justice, but I didn't care.

Her breath caught too, and knuckles brushed my cheek before her lips touched my forehead for only an instant. "Anders, there's nothing wrong with her reasons for this. This builds alliances for us and gives us safe havens. If we wear the uniform, even more so. We've lost almost all the allies we found over the years, this means we at least get a chance. Now I won't have to worry about fighting darkspawn either."

"I don't care if Attryne thinks your odds are better than average, those odds of you dying are still not close enough to zero!" This was my last chance to persuade Dera, the last time we'd have the time to get away. When she didn't relax enough against me to give me hope, I started to get frustrated. _I didn't want to lose her._ _"What can I say to convince you?_ Why are you doing this? You can help people in other ways than being a Grey Warden. We can hide for years, we can try for that family; you're good at hiding, too. Why, love?"

My voice was more pleading than I wanted it to be, and I tried to pull her closer but she resisted for an instant.

Another silence and she stretched up so our faces were nearly touching. "I didn't know when you asked at that inn..."

"But you do now?" I wasn't sure if I wanted to know.

She sighed again, reluctant to speak, but she did. "I still feel a weight for those innocents that died in Kirkwall. Children, those claiming assistance or shelter, and those who may not have agreed with their leaders but had no more power to change things than we did. They all died, and we caused that."

"No, _we_ did that! You wanted me cured." I'd felt like bronto droppings at the time, and again now.

Hawke leaned back and spoke louder. "I _helped_ you make it! Their blood is on my hands too, and I should have recognized some of the ingredients..."

Horror made me want to gag. "You want to die. You want to leave me alone!"

Her hands braced the sides of my face. "No, of course not! But we owe _someone_ for what we did. There are no neutrals who would be able to judge between the Chantry, Circle, Templars, and Free Mages. Dwarves would if they hadn't been repeatedly in bed with Tevinter and the Chantry; they are merchants and respect only strength and money. Elves have been either ground down or don't give a damn. Qun would just love to disrupt as much as they can, but they do cruel things to their mages too. Tevinter treats everyone non-mage, like me, as lesser, a voided mirror of the Chantry."

I wanted to interrupt, but her tone of voice was too grim and even grieving.

"Who else in Thedas might be possibly be able to judge fairly? The Warden judged that I should be conscripted into the Grey Wardens. She could have executed you, locked either of both of us in some remote prison." Hawke gave a soft sob. "They could have killed both of us for what we did. We killed a lot of Templars and mages in the Gallows, some were probably just more scared of us than the demons already there. So, we won't be able to face any authority and argue all those rotten things that have probably been forgotten by all but a few. We owe something for all those murdered, and helping the Wardens seems to be the best option."

"You shouldn't have to atone for what we did..." My voice sounded very small, even to me.

"Always." Dera chided me gently.

This was worse than the Warden's overt plans, that her life was forfeit... My spirit was nearly as upset as I this time, and I didn't need to ask why. _We_ should face any justice. My breathing got ragged.

Dera hushed me and turned my face towards her again with a teasing note in her voice. "We can run away later, when they aren't watching us as closely."

Hiccuping a laugh, I felt a little better. I protested, "You might still die."

"She's had now many years to try to understand the Joining? You always sounded like you trusted her before."

"I didn't care! I didn't know those recruits like you, love." I cared, like for any patient who died but not in the consuming way for Hawke.

"How about I try to wait for you in the Fade, then. And I want a very long wait," Dera said wistfully.

That gave me an idea. _Is there any way you can help her there?_ I demanded from Justice.

_**I don't think so.**_

I leaned forward so our foreheads touched and my throat felt like someone had punched me there. "I cannot promise anything, but I will try. Stay."

Hawke cuddled closer and finished by saying, "I'll try."

After she fell asleep, and I realized I was weeping. Mopping my eyes, I watched her sleep.

I couldn't sleep, I didn't want to lose a moment with her.

We rose and washed, I would not let go of her as we went out to the hall. A meal was eaten, though we only picked at it. I had no idea what I ate. By the time it was over and the hall cleared of most, Hawke was the only non-Warden left.

"Anders," the Warden Commander finally said, "It's time."

Hawke stood slowly, from out where she'd been tucked beside me. Even now, if she gave the word, I'd try my best to get her away. The only thing that gave her tension away was the way she gripped my hand. I rose with her, following to the open space where Attryne and Alistair were standing. The rest who I knew by name rose as well, Sigrun, Durin, Mahel, Tharlin, and Ednund. Alistair glared at me when I remained beside Hawke, but I only glared back at him. I'd never heard of any rule against this, nor did I care if there was one. I'd knock him off his feet first.

Hawke's eyes were glazed and unseeing, and she was biting her lip.

"We all know, the cost and the need for the Joining. Vigilance includes making sure we are better prepared for the next blight or next Architect," Attryne said musingly. "Short sighted idiocy still hampers our recruiting elves, mages, or casteless dwarves. The First Warden thinks we can let it slide, that we have the time before the next blight. I don't think so. That is not vigilant enough, as we don't know if there are any more of the Firsts, that they may somehow trigger another archdemon like the Architect implied."

Attryne looked at Alistair, who spoke solemnly. "The Grey Warden Riordan told us this, shortly before he fell while fighting the Archdemon high over Denerim. 'We aren't judges. Kinslayers, blood mages, traitors, rebels, Carta thugs, and common bandits. Anyone with the skill and nerve to take up the sword against the darkspawn is welcome among us.' The Joining binds us to the darkspawn; we cannot flee away from this oath and duty. We will find them in the blighted lands and Deep Roads, or they will find us."

Hawke jerked, moving her elbow towards my side, but stopped.

Alistair's voice got louder and harsher. "We are vigilant. We fight. And we die, to serve **everyone**, not just Teyrns and princes but also slaves and dusters and mages. They must be allowed to fight too, for all of Thedas, Ferelden, and themselves."

His voice was suddenly ringing, and I believed those rumors about him for the first time. He _could_ have led armies across the land, but he shielded it and met the Commander's eyes.

She continued. "The First Warden does not approve, does not believe that vigilance includes recruiting from the **best** in Thedas and not knuckling down to the powerful who have already forgotten the blight. As Arlessa, I have enough authority in Ferelden alone to work for our post-blight recovery and improve our future recruiting. If we had had only noble Wardens recruited from tournaments to fight the Blight, the Archdemon would have taken a lot more than Ferelden... Senior Warden."

Taking up the Joining cup, Alistair began to speak. As he did, the hall took on a breathless silence. "Since the first, these words have been spoken at the ceremony: Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant."

These words were already burnt into my memory despite having last heard them ten years ago. As his words continued, I almost heard them rising from the ground around me in whispery voices, barely audible compared to Alistair's voice.

"Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

By the end of this, despite my intentions, my eyes had drifted shut and I realized I was speaking those words too. With that ending, my eyes snapped open, and I stepped against Dera even as Alistair stepped forward with the cup.

I met her eyes, hoping. But she shook her head the tiniest bit and I had to gulp down on my objection.

Another glare from Alistair but he didn't speak, perhaps because Attryne touched his shoulder. When he looked at her, his anger faded and he nodded.

Hawke held my hand tightly and reached for the cup. Smiling with a bravado that made my heart hurt, she took a large gulp and she met my eyes.

As soon as she had swallowed, and before she'd even had the chance to make a face at the foulness, I pulled her against myself while keeping eye contact. The only thing I was thinking, over and over, was, '_Maker, please.'_

I'd hoped to tell her I loved her one more time, but she began to convulse and slide to the floor, limply sliding through my fingers. Sagging down with her, my throat hurting, I laid her out carefully and waited.

Her fit didn't last long, only moments and years. I checked her health, and I could see the taint moving in her much more quickly than blood or alcohol spread, bound by the magic in lyrium more than like poisons. I'd never closely monitored this before, and I didn't know if this was the sign of success or failure, so I knelt by her and ran my fingers through her hair.

It must have been only a few minutes in the silence but Hawke's eyes fluttered open while I was bent over her, and her eyes smiled weakly before she started being more conventionally sick.

Relieved chatter sprang up around us while I tried to lift her up from the floor. My own knees were weak and all I could do was pull her upright and hold her loosely as she retched part of what she had taken in.

"Anders?" Alistair bent over and was offering.

When I nodded, he scooped her up easily and carried her towards our room. I staggered after them.

Once Hawke was settled on the blue coverlet, he stepped back and said, "You're to report to the Commander in the morning, before anything besides food. This won't work if you don't make a greater attempt to stay in contact with other Wardens. And we may need to call upon you as well."

"Yes, yes," I said in a sing-song as he left. I put a basin beside Hawke and started cleaning us off. She had passed out again, and my fears would not dissipate because she was so, so still.

Paws jumped up on the bed. I started to glare, but even I could tell he was upset, with his ears back and tail stub low. He set his head on her leg and whined; after some dry retching, Hawke woke enough to scratch his ears.

I could feel her taint now, even if it wasn't as fully permeated as in the rest of us, and mourned it as I had not before, even for myself.

"Has your stomach settled, love?" I asked carefully. At her nod, I put my arms around her and we held onto each other for a long moment. She hiccuped once more, but we still held.

Finally she said against my chest, "That crap is really vile. I half expected it to crawl back up like a snake..."

Startled into a chuckle, I shook my head and said to the tiny thread of fear remaining in her voice, "No, you woke up. There's still many ways to die, but not from what you drank, for now."

"Feel a bit tired," she claimed with a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Sleep love. There's no Blight on the doorstep," I had to smile at the disbelief in her snort, but she was falling asleep again as I caressed her hair.

I had to prepare her to sleep. Getting her out of her armor wasn't any fun for the first time, but my guilt over her Joining had not been lessened by its success. So I held her in my arms and counted her breaths until I slept as well. I wasn't totally surprised to dream of darkspawn. I'd gotten used to being dream-free since I hosted Justice, but I got to enjoy nightmares again with Vengeance's departure.

This time I'd been completely exhausted and my dreams were especially detailed, vivid, and real-seeming. First an old memory of fighting the Architect with Attryne, Justice, and Nathaniel in that blasted tower. I remembered that we'd had words then, but the Commander agreed about demolishing the Architect's plans. Even in the dream I knew something was wrong there.

But as we fought the Architect it became more of a chase as he kept getting away and taking Velanna's sister ever further into the unfamiliar deep roads with armies of darkspawn. Typical Warden dreams I supposed, but the Deep Roads where we fought were now an amalgam of all the deep roads I'd seen now and yet different. Ka'Hirol and Kirkwall were where I'd spent most of my time as a Warden. But the roads near Orzammar resembled roads above ground at times, feeling far less confining to me, especially with Hawke along in her Champion gear.

The Deep Roads in my dream became more like a fever dream, where a Circle tower was inside out and Deep underground, with demons wearing the bodies of mages I once knew. Darkspawn were gushing up directly into the archives too and apprentice mage quarters becoming the line of defense for the Vigil. Hawke and I fought the demons and Justice was like a strangling caul on my body as we fought in the Fade. Bodies of mages, Wardens, and even Templars scattered around the room. We wore a Warden uniform now, as was Hawke, and I was afraid we were the only ones left. I didn't want my Calling to doom her too, as I blasted all our attackers with ice. But one of my iceblasts cracked the stone and she was crushed before my eyes, leaving me alone in the weighted darkness of the Deep Roads.

I woke Hawke, screaming.

Taking deep, ragged breaths, it took me some moments to believe she still lived, that she hadn't died from my Calling. She held me tight, murmuring in my ear, even if she didn't look rested either.

I had to find some way to keep her safe, whether she wanted to protect me or not. Something...

Thinking as she rocked us, it came to me again: family. That 'pipe-dream' would have been an answer, because she wouldn't leave children unprotected when my Calling came. I didn't know how, now, but she should have that extra decade.

Hawke fell back in to her own dreams once I'd calmed, leaving me to try to figure out how to make her a mother without losing her and hoping she'd find someone else. How many had I met who might be worthy of her, but weren't Wardens? Of course I might take her to the _Pearl_ and get her drunk, but I wasn't sure I could manage that one either.

Thoughts of her again visiting the _Rose_ chased me back into sleep, like what happened in my darker days after the fiasco in the Deep Roads when she'd lost her sister.

_- x -_

_A/N: The chapter title is adapted from a quote by W. H. Auden. Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._

_Things get better for Anders, I promise._


	5. Marching Orders

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

_**Chapter 5: Marching Orders**_

**Orzammar, The Grey Warden outpost**

**Hawke:**

My sleep was restless with fleeting memories of nightmares, more than my usual, and I was very glad that the Fade had little risk for me aside from not sleeping as well. When I finally woke for the day, Anders was sleeping. He didn't even wake when I got out of bed and dressed. I moved his cat onto him, remembering his old complaint and went out with Paws for a time.

My mabari seemed reassured that I was better now, even if he sometimes sniffed me with almost a look of worry. I got a lump in my throat when I realized that he would be long gone before the taint could call me.

When Paws and I reentered the granite arch in the mountainside that served the Wardens, the youngster writing some report inside the entrance just waggled a wave. Looked like check-ins were a thing of the past for me.

I was feeling hungry enough to eat the horse I'd rode in on, but I returned to our room as I was worried about Anders. Becoming a Warden was just another necessity, amongst the many regrets I'd had over the years. Many caused me more pain, such as the deaths I'd caused while working for Atheneril and that I hadn't bodily taken Papa to a healing mage when he grew weaker, even if they were Circle linked.

Anders wasn't quite stirring, so I traced a finger along his ear to wake him. He was smiling before he'd opened his eyes.

"Good morning, my handsome mage," I said with a smile. "Can we go find some food now?"

I guessed my voice was a little more plaintive than I'd wanted, as he laughed.

He sat up and hugged me, saying, "I think you will eat much in the coming weeks, love. It does lessen a little... eventually."

"We're going to need to keep raiding thaigs, just to afford to eat, aren't we?" I asked, hoping he'd take it well.

Anders' grimace at the reminder of the Deep Roads didn't last that long, but he did manage to bounce back at me with a smirk, "I hope you get to like spider and deep mushrooms for meals then, Hawke. It's much better if you cook it."

I had to make a face at that as I'd been more willing to go hungry for a while down there than eat spiders. Right now I was hungry enough to be wondering for a second if a lot of butter and garlic would help... then I realized that was silly as we couldn't carry enough butter along with us for the Deep Roads.

Looking him in the eye, I granted the point while waving my fingers at him. "I'm hungry enough right now to ask if there's some kind of magic that can make or summon butter for us to cook the spider-meat with,"

Anders choked, and then laughed. "If I could do that, we wouldn't need to eat spiders, but I will keep an eye out for that magic. _Summon Buttered Toast_ I don't think should require demons or blood magic, eh?"

Maybe I looked pitiful enough at the idea of toast that he swung his legs around to get up and get dressed.

When we reached the mess, Anders was very helpful in piling food on to my large plate, and then got me a second one, assuring me that I'd finish it. I could feel my eyes boggle at it, not quite believing it, even with all they'd said. I did finish it all and Anders had a merry glint in his eyes when he brought a small tray of a cobbler.

The few wardens I knew were grinning as well when they ate their own large breakfasts. My only consolation was that Anders was the only one present for my entire meal. So I hadn't quite attracted a crowd for my almost frenzied eating.

Looking at the empty containers, I could feel myself flush. That might have been enough to feed my entire family in Lothering.

Sliding closer to put an arm around me, Anders' smile faded again. "It will pass, love. Eventually, the worst of that hunger lessens a little, but never as small as what it was before. I've heard rumors that a true lack is one of the signs your Calling will be soon."

I poked him in the belly with one finger, saying, "You still eat enough for two... and I hadn't really seen that since..." I had to stop, as the memory touched on flared painfully.

Bringing his arm up to pull my head against his, I took a breath and finished my thought. "I remember how much Carver always inhaled as soon as he started shooting up." _Now he was the only one of us who did not become a warden, and he had been so envious at Orzammar._

After a moment or two of silence, Anders asked, "Hawke, do you want to go see the Commander now... or would you rather go back to bed?"

The leer was faint, but I wanted to get the meeting over with. I was pretty sure we weren't going to be put in the rank and file, as my conscription had been more covert. At worst, we'd just take off, like Anders had before. It'd be much harder to catch up with us if we kept moving.

"Later," I said as a promise.

He made a face at that, but he wasn't upset; Anders only looked towards the other quarters. "Let's get the lecture over with then."

We weren't the most cheerful pair when I knocked at the door. In that pause before I did, I could hear some conversation very faintly through the door.

It opened, and Alistair actually smiled on seeing us. "Good to see that you're up and about. Come in."

Anders held my hand as we entered. There was a couple of chairs in front of a desk, plainly ready to give us a talking to. When I looked at Anders, his only reaction was a frown. I smiled, hoping to soften his irritation.

Anders cut in front and sat down, pulling me to sit low in his lap. He'd done this before but not in front of others, and so I could feel myself blush. He kicked up his legs onto the desk, leaving me almost sprawled across him. Trying to sit up, he put his arms around me possessively, saying, "No, recruit," in a growl.

My determination to remain optimistic faded, and I nearly broke free. I wanted to cry a little at this sudden change in Anders.

When I looked at Attryne and Alistair, they looked grimly at my mage.

"Anders, what do you mean by this?" the Warden-Commander said with a bit of anger.

"I want to make sure you don't think you aren't getting any drone bees for your army, Attryne. The Champion and I have other responsibilities as well, there isn't a Blight, and we don't need you lecturing us. We don't need our hands held or supervision to make sure we are diligent in fighting darkspawn. I've long ago lost count of how many we've killed over the years." Anders was determined.

"Mage..." Alistair started to say.

Glaring at him, Anders insisted, "That has _nothing_ to do with this. Hawke bends over backwards sometimes trying to help everyone, but there should be limits. The Commander only has the Wardens' concerns now, but Hawke gets pulled in even more directions than Attryne. You bitched about it yourself when you visited at the Vigil, when it was only the city and the Vigil pulling on **her**. We have many more enemies all over Thedas, not just in one country and not just for what I've done." Glaring at Attryne, Anders finished, "You don't own us in total, no matter what kind of promise you hope to convince her to give."

Alistair moved behind the Commander's shoulder, though he didn't speak.

Attryne frowned and said, "I see. Well then, I will go over what we expect, what we'd like to see, and other things you need to know, if that would be acceptable, Anders?"

"Yes," Anders said in a passable imitation of Alistair's upper class accent.

It was a lecture, and I wasn't used to those, fidgeting after a while. I'd never had formal instruction. Even my brief time in the Fereldan army gave only a short list of guidelines, there'd been no time for special training. I'd also suspected those who were training us before Ostagar didn't expect us to survive.

How many of them had survived?

Still, the lecture about killing darkspawn, supporting other wardens' missions, and passable manners to other senior wardens. That came with a slight glare at Anders from Alistair. What we were supposed to not do was often political, like making kings. Attryne admitted that during a Blight, that rule was much softer, as long as it served the fight. I was given a summary of major warden holdings, the Vigil I'd already heard much of, and a once forgotten base that had been lost to political siege and demon possession.

That Anders had not known by the way he got tense about the possessed Warden-Commander and the ancient blood mage there. That name had even been on a potion we'd acquired in Kirkwall, and I felt ill. They also gave us the news of the three thaigs that had known living dwarves, and _She_ made sure I understood about broodmothers.

It was almost too much even with the parts I already knew.

My becoming a Grey Warden was as much about reinforcing that _anyone_ could be conscripted, so once it was more known, we were to openly watch for candidates on our travels. If necessary, we were to conduct their Joinings, but either way we were to send them to outposts for training. Then came the darkest parts about Joining and Anders learning how to prepare the cup. Anders stiffened at the story of Jory and shook his head slightly but we were reminded of our oaths.

The Warden-Commander's eyes glistened and her voice was rough as she'd spoken, finishing that those that died in the Joining were still considered full wardens and that was most of the reason returning to our old lives was discouraged.

Alistair admitted with a fond smile at Attryne that this rule was often ignored.

Then came the boring stuff, listed by Alistair: the outposts, senior wardens, known projects and thaig explorations... problems. Tevinter was a problem, even if some became wardens, almost always non-mages unless there was a Blight. The Qun were another problem, as they did not know of any becoming wardens. One Sten had fought in the Blight with them, but they were unsure if the Qun as a group understood the danger. They'd never faced a major Blight. Full Templars had already proved that they were not very good at severing their allegiances once they were Wardens,

That almost sounded like an oblique apology to Anders, but he didn't react.

Mage, Templar, and Chantry unrest was another problem, Alistair allowed, but the Warden Commander wished it resolved in such a way to free mages to fight in the next Blight.

Anders sat up at that, and finally spoke, aside from snarky whispers, "You're taking sides? What does the _First Warden_ say?"

The First Warden must have been a bone of contention from his tone.

"He says that I'm a spoiled noblewoman with no comradeship of proper wardens, long view, or training. He can't demote me, as we survived while the Senior Warden died in Denerim. He disapproved of the fact that far too many, including Templar forces, witnessed that we killed the Archdemon, and not him. He hates that Alistair and I didn't turn out to be conveniently dead Heroes." She looked grim at these examples of politics within the Wardens. "Their cringing may have been somewhat useful once, but catering to the powerful only lets us recruit a few talented individuals instead of all we need, so he's not looking at the long view."

Looking a little pale, Alistair admitted, "It was magic, perhaps a form of blood magic that allowed us to survive the Archdemon's death. And the Joining is plainly..." he finished with a wave of his hand at me.

"Without magic, _there are no wardens_ and fewer ways to fight the darkspawn. So along with freeing the mages, I'd like you to recruit from among them. You can mention it shortens their lifespan, but no other of the darker details, that's the big important core. We need mages, and that will be your primary duty, unless the First Warden personally countermands me; everything beyond general recruitment is secret even from Wardens, at your discretion. Just don't go to the Anderfels where the First Warden is, until the mage war's over, Anders."

"Attryne?" he asked with wide eyes, disbelieving her terms.

With a faint smile she said, "I thought the Circles should fall as soon as I'd seen Kinloch and talked to Wynne about her life. The things she could not _allow_ herself to be angry over sickened me. How many at the Circle could have defended their home if they'd been allowed to live in Denerim? I had already put two rulers on thrones and gotten so many threatening letters from Weisshaupt when I met Anders that my hands were tied. All I'd been able to do about mages in Ferelden was loosen their chains a little as Orlais was already a threat when they couldn't marry into the kingdom. Freeing mages totally would have crushed Ferelden and the remains of its Circle."

Anders sighed and pulled me back more gently. It would have come too late for him, even if she'd managed it.

"Now I'm practically a statesman after a decade and my forced travels have been of some use for knowledge and contacts, so I can act now and you are free agents... Since Hawke is native born, and was recruited here, I have the authority, even if the First Warden gets pissed.

"And Anders, I like you much better now," the Warden-Commander said with a smile. "Honeybees and drones don't get the girl."

Anders looked dismayed at her admission for a moment. He'd resettled us on the seat while they'd spoken, becoming a little less militant, but his anger returned. "But Attryne, how could you do that to Hawke, to me? You _used_ Hawke as leverage on me, just like the Templars do."

"No, not really like the Templars do, Anders. I did what I did, not because of fear or prejudice. You killed how many in that Chantry? Do you even know how many were in those halls, that weren't Templars or ranked brothers and sisters? Templars act because of fear and hate. I've acted because of what you did. You were just enough in the right that execution or tranquility would not be quite right either. So like any Warden recruit, I balanced your future usefulness with what is necessary to ensure you think a lot harder about your plans." The Warden's voice was flat and gray.

I slipped my arm around Anders, to remind him I was here.

He ignored me, "So you decided the Champion of Kirkwall was to be my whipping boy?"

"If that was what it takes, then yes." Alistair said in a clipped voice. "She is a proven fighter as well. Wardens are often a strong presence at any Champion tournament, both as competitors and for recruiting. We need Wardens who will not crumble at challenges from the powerful and the offer of shelter was an honest one."

Anders sagged and held me close, whispering another apology.

Maybe it hadn't sunk in, but an official respite from being hunted and new allies was worth the rather slim chance of a family.

"It won't be that bad, Anders. You shouldn't have too many assignments." Attryne smiled faintly and reached into the desk. "Here."

She tossed something small to us, and I caught it before giving it to Anders, without much thought.

Anders held it in his palm, a small vial, before he gripped it tightly. "Thank you."

"I needed to be sure that you weren't an insane abomination and able to control yourself, first." The Warden was smiling again.

Anders was looking around and spotted a small brazier in the corner that was keeping the underground room warm. He stood us up and moved closer while the flames flared. Opening the seal with his knife he poured the crimson liquid out where it sizzled and evaporated as he grinned. Then he smashed the vial into uncountable pieces and swung me around with a kind of joy.

The other two looked amused. Alistair handed us papers, and that seemed to be that as we were waved off.

Before I could even read it, Anders pulled both of us out into the hall the joy gone.

"I'm really glad my phylactery is gone, but what they did..." he muttered as he pulled me along behind him.

Shaking his hand off, I stopped in the hall and asked, "And how does this change our plans again?"

Anders was angry and he hated feeling confined in any way. "We're supposed to be some kind of beacon to convince others to give up their lives and chances of a life of their own? How is that much of an improvement over being trapped in a Circle? At least there, they have nice beds and known nightmares from the Fade. Some may even have no Templars now..."

I was hungry already, but I pulled him back to our room where our pets were.

Sitting on the bed I tried to speak calmly. "How much of that was at our discretion? She even explicitly gave us time to do other things before starting publicly as Wardens. How much more freedom do you want? So we watch for anyone competent, who fights well, and might be able to turn aside from their current lives to defend others? Isn't that how you Joined? And you just spent most of the last ten years working on other things, helped some by the reputation of the Wardens."

As he simmered a little less, I reminded him, "How likely was it we would have even met? You wouldn't have had backup at the Chantry that first day when meeting Karl, and we would have been just another dead expedition into the Deep Roads."

He sighed. "That was always one of my fears. love. Not about Karl, we'd faced more before, even if it cost me that scar on my chest. You dying, your veins blackening from the Blight instead of your sister, or in addition to her. And then every other time we fought darkspawn, worrying that this time I'd miss an injury. I was safe from it and had had to watch others die, who couldn't be saved by any spell.

"It made me hate the Deep Roads that much more. I couldn't **not** go with you into the dark, but even then I wanted you safe. Despite Justice's objections. I'd follow you anywhere, Dera," Anders said with a sad smile.

"But you wouldn't believe I would follow you into the dark, Anders?" I almost mourned.

"You belong in the sun and wind, love, like any hawk. There's no light in the Deep Roads." Anders mourned as well.

Forcing something for his image, I said, "You're the one that glows, in the Deep Roads, in the Gallows' tunnels, in the Chantry. I'm in the shadows, that's where I fight from, not the brightness."

"Warrior's choice: burn bright or die unmourned," Anders said wistfully, cupping my cheek.

"So we're burning brightly together," I told him with a brief kiss and a smile. "At least you saved me from even considering Vael or Fenris for a date."

Smirk growing, Anders agreed. "Glad to be of service, my lady... recruit."

Poking his chest I told him, "I didn't like being treated like that. I'm not _your_ game-piece either. I thought we'd agreed on that after Kirkwall."

"I won't allow you to be used up for a war that will not end in our lifetimes." Anders was annoyed again. "You don't know them like I do, like _both Justice and I_ do. She meant it back at the _Kestral_ about breaking hearts and lives. They are all cold bastards at heart and you are not to make the wardens look more noble than they are, more organized and powerful than some part-time club to fight darkspawn. Their need for the outcasts of Thedas is inverse to the currency of a blight.

"How many wardens did we see over the years who weren't human fighters and rogues? Bethany was the only mage I saw in the groups around Kirkwall. No one else _was allowed_ to be Wardens on their watch. How engrained is their distrust of mages now? They know how many won them the so-called little Blight. How much of the Black City crap have they swallowed hook, line, and sinker?"

"Anders," I started to say, but he was too angry to stop.

"How much do they love their damn uniform more than fighting their blights?!"

Leaning my cheek against him and hugging him close, I didn't speak for several moments.

When I thought my rubbing his back had made a difference, I suggested, "You do remember how many jobs I reneged on, if the required acts were foul or the contact had lied to us. I won't change in that."

Another moment, I added while tracing his collarbone along his pauldrons, "Besides, I think you look handsome in blue once in a while."

"Well, there is that..." he allowed with a faint smile in his voice now.

Lifting my chin, he added more earnestly, "Dera, I just don't want to lose you to the coldness the wardens _all_ get to be. I remember when Bethany was sweeter, the sunshine that Varric named her. But now she's colder and more bitter. I hated how she spoke to you the next few times we saw her."

I wondered, possibly for the first time at how much Anders had lost from his Joining. I'd always thought his harsher moments were only from Justice. A moment to think and I leaned my head closer to say, "How much sweetness did you lose, Anders?"

He tensed at my question, looking confused, and not from Justice. Maybe to reassure himself, he laid a trail of kisses on my face until he could bury his face in my hair. "I don't know. No one I know now, knew me before the Wardens. I think they all died during the Blight." Then he seemed to just breathe for a time.

Remembering we were still in the hallway I asked, "Back to our room?" But just after that, my stomach rumbled, loudly.

Anders was surprised into a laugh and said a little mockingly, "After we find you a roast nug, with all the trimmings, right, love?"

Raising my hand, I ran a finger along the length of his nose, saying, "You're still very sweet. I'll be sure to tell you if you become a total ass."

"Promises, promises..." came as his face lightened more.

Taking my wrist before I could lower it, he turned his face to kiss my palm, his stubble tickling as he did. His eyes closed, I traced them and then his eyebrows with my fingertips.

Ander's voice was only a little muffled by my hand when he said, "All the trimmings," as he pulled me back towards our room.

I caught up and grinned at him, "We're going the wrong way."

"No. This healer thinks you need much more rest. I have to be vigilant and protect your honeyed sweetness." His face was almost grim, but his eyes were much warmer.

Later, I think I must have eaten the entire nug but the squeal, while Anders watched indulgently once he was done eating. I couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed, even if no one else seemed to notice.

Sigrun joined us with her own well-filled plate and a smile. "The Commander made it clear that your Joining, while not a secret, is not to be bragged outside. I'm glad you survived it, Champion."

"So am I," I patted Anders' arm. "This guy's not too good at staying out of trouble."

Sigrun's face always seemed a little odd when her tattoos looked a bit like a skull, but her smile became a giggle. "Does he still shout that the ogres should suck on a fireball? I always thought he was funny as he used a blizzard spell more often than fire..."

Another surprise, as I hadn't seen that much cold over larger areas, not affecting a larger area like Bethany could with her fire.

"I... have trouble with that spell now, I've only been able to cast it a very few times since we fought together, Sigrun." He looked unhappy in a flavor wasn't quite identifiable. "And only recently."

Sliding closer, I hooked one arm in his and tried to keep the worry out of my voice, "Recently?"

Gripping my hand, Anders admitted, his head bobbling from a swallow, "When you fall and I can't get them off you. Like that small army of the Varl's... You are too fragile in combat for my comfort and it almost makes me miss the blasted elf. Almost."

"Army?" Sigrun perked up. "What kind of army did you face since I last saw you, Sparklefingers, and why didn't I hear of it before?"

Anders jumped for the topic change, though his grip on my hand and arm said he hadn't relaxed much. "It was a cold and dark winter's night, the campsite Merrill knew of, was uphill with ten feet of snow in the way, both ways. Sleet pounded against our frail clothing. When, out of the deep ditch covered in white sheets of wet silk with silver and gold stitching, sprang a thousand, no, thousands of archers and assassins desperate to collect the boundless wealth offered for the head of a handsome and powerful apostate mage. Their leader shouted from far in the rear where it was safe, that they should slaughter the fine-looking mage and all his companions; the ass shouted and frothed at the mouth, waving his arm like a prince, actually..."

I had to laugh at that, and interrupted his fancy by saying, "It wasn't that epic. He wasn't that far in the rear, but archers have to stay back too." Suddenly a hot iron of guilt hit me in the stomach, and I could feel my face flush.

I remembered how my daggers had slipped through that silly-looking armor, drenching us in blood.

_My vision had almost gone into a black tunnel from my anger and I dropped those daggers so I could beat his pretty face. His kind never had to suffer directly for the hate they spread around. He hadn't had to suck it up over and over when people were taken and threatened. He hadn't had to keep going through the pain. He never had to be sick with dread that a loved one was under a threat of hollow destruction from people who pretended to be good. He'd been a protected treasure and hadn't had to work and sacrifice. He wasn't sheltered anymore..._

Trapped back in that moment, I couldn't breathe and began to shake with both rage and self-revulsion.

"... Dera, love. Shh, I'm safe, remember? For the rest of our days..."

Anders was holding me tightly, without my even noticing. _Just like when it happened. The next thing I realized was his warm arms round me and him talking into my ear._ Still, I was ashamed at what I'd done, I'd nearly killed Vael, despite all the times he'd fought in sometimes petty jobs without much complaint. Despite the fact that he expressed some of my own horror at what happened.

Killing him couldn't make my anger and horror go away.

Killing him couldn't end the threat to us, to mages.

Killing him _only_ made me an assassin.

He'd survived, the only attacker that did; the mass of attackers fell to Anders and Merrill even while I was trying to kill a one time friend.

Turning within Anders' embrace, I hiccuped and said, "Might as well be a Warden, then there'd be a good use of a killer like me."

_- x -_

_A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	6. Continuous Adjustments

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Chapter 6: Continuous Adjustment in Relations**

**Orzammar, The Grey Warden outpost**

**Anders:**

I held onto Dera as her shaking finally slowed, but her next words were like a blade in my heart. I looked at Sigrun, feeling helpless, even as I held Hawke close.

Anyone who wanted me dead, I'd been willing to kill for a long time, but Hawke tried to make sure adversaries couldn't be reasoned with. I couldn't complain, as I lived only because she believed I was better than what we'd done.

_But when she beat Sebastian, that wasn't the clean and fast deaths she usually gave our enemies. _

_She drew it out, prolonging his pain after he'd gotten a fatal wound that prevented his fighting._

_I'd been afraid of an explosion of violence when we were found by Isabela, that their confrontation would end in bloody carnage. I'd been afraid that we had pulled my free-flying hawk into the darkness with us. I'd been afraid I'd lose her into rage, as much as any demon. _

_I'd been petrified that Vengeance was corrupting her too._

_So I'd stopped her and healed the archer, without any time to really talk about that moment for far too long. _

I thought she'd been fine once he lived and a truce was set. Then I thought that rage had passed safely and that she didn't really remember.

I was wrong, very wrong and my heart broke for her, hidden inside my skin,

I really didn't know what to say, even if I had to speak now before I lost her attention. "Love, no. You aren't... you aren't a cold killer."

Words were failing me. I could find them against Templars and Fenris, but I didn't know what to say to my love. She was shaking her head as I held her close, trying to will my warmth into her.

"Nah." Sigrun spoke for the first time in in a while. "You're too sneaky to be just a killer, Champion. Yeah, some Wardens are not much more than efficient killers, but they rarely get beyond the rank and file. They're the ones who like the prestige of the armor more than understand what it means. I don't think any of us recruited against the Architect and Mother wear ours unless it's to annoy someone." She sat up. "But this ain't the Free Marches, where I hear they insist on Orlesian fashion more than here. Maybe that lack of dwarves and elves as Wardens there is because Orlais and that Chantry was still more powerful."

"It was," I agreed with a smile that somehow hurt. I thought I loved Sigrun, just for having words right now. I kissed Dera by her temple and whispered, "You're my hope, love. I've seen so many cold killers, all my life. I need your warmth."

Her frame shaking with a sigh, my Hawke met my eyes and said, "You're my hope, too."

After a moment, Sigrun said dryly, "Now that we've finished the mushy stuff, I'm to check to make sure Warden Anders has been refreshed on all those things he blew off before. He's a male and they usually need reminding a few dozen extra times."

When Hawke laughed, I felt better too despite being the butt of the joke.

"Just when you Joined is not to be advertised, though not a secret, keep to the 'after you became Champion' to non-wardens for a year or two. Blame Nathaniel Howe, he won't mind..." Sigrun smirked as she told us.

"Much," I had to say, as Nate didn't appreciate our humor enough. I would have to come up with some extremely funny recruitment story that would annoy him if anyone asks, and wait until he hears about his recruit.

"Two: You are both assigned to recruitment, under the Warden-Commander's personal orders. Three: When you are close to warden outposts, you are to check in for messages and offer assistance if you can to the commanders." Sigrun was much too smug.

That made me suspicious and I was horrified at a stray thought. "Maker, please tell me Oghren isn't commanding _anything._ He said he was born here, didn't he?"

"No," Sigrun snorted. "But it would almost be worth it for this look on your face. He's staying close to his little nug and that thaig near the Vigil. I'm still commanding here, unless some duster wants on a Proving and I humor him."

Hawke snorted. "That explains our last visit then."

Grinning, Sigrun added, "This visit too, I hope. How could a human who isn't a Warden do that well in a Proving? Must have cheated. Might get trickier as they complained about your reach, despite the fact that we only use daggers. I've always thought they're compensating for something with their swords."

Hawke's grin said she was interested again, and the money she'd gotten had helped restore our equipment after we'd fled Kirkwall. We'd managed to spend a lot over the winter and on those horses in Redcliffe. I'd hated watching the final match, unable to do anything.

"Can I help?" popped right out of my mouth.

_I was volunteering for a probable death match, had I gone insane?_

"Don't see why not, Anders. Attryne's final round had magic," came from a smirking Sigrun. "We may have larger groups than usual since they now respect her fighting, but Hawke told me you'd faced Carta many times so I don't think this'll be a problem. They preen for the crowds too much, all of 'em."

Hawke rubbed my back and looked pleased. Well, I could revive any who might otherwise die, if I was on the sand. And we could keep her alive.

I'd have to reconsider my spells for the stronger magic resistance here in Orzammar. Already thinking about that, I remembered the blasted formality Attryne and Alistair told us. "Oh, yes. Lovely Sigrun, are there any messages?"

"Yes, Senior Warden," Sigrun said, still with a thread of laughter. "We have one from Warden Hawke..."

For a second I wondered why Hawke would bother, since she was close enough to whisper anything she wanted into my ear, but then I remembered Bethany who was now nearly as senior as I, even if she Joined well after the Blight and Architect.

Hawke's face lit up, and she said her thanks in a careful voice that didn't hide her pleasure. It was a breath of sunshine and tulips for her, and I smiled too. She carefully put it into a pocket for later, her smile getting more reflective.

Sigrun returned to the other topic, "I think I'll need to speak with the Proving Master, to take you along. To start the speculation and cook the odds a bit in out favor, it's all part of the play. You should be in some Warden armor instead of your feathers, Sparklefingers." She rubbed her hands together. "They will think it's a two Warden team, still without a warrior. They aren't used to that."

So they talked about the tactics and combat cues they'd used last time, and then I added the spells I thought more useful. Negotiating the rules for the bouts might take days or even weeks and I volunteered to give up fire spells, since they weren't my strongest even if most feared them instinctively.

Then I got taken to the Stores and got a fresh and shiny new uniform that I didn't want. Hawke wasn't the first human to join here, many had because of the ever-present and convenient darkspawn. I tried not to resent that Hawke wasn't issued a uniform. And at the same time I was glad she wasn't.

Hawke tried not to smirk at me, and pretty much failed to be convincing. Every time I pouted, I got a kiss, so I had no motive to stop.

So, Sigrun escorted us back to our room, ostensibly to make sure I wore my armor correctly. After some helpful adjustments on Sigrun's directions, and less so from an amused Hawke, the blue and silverite armor was almost comfortable.

"We're going to need to get these enhanced somehow," I told both of them. "I am not taking _**my**_ armor apart for those few times I might wear this armor."

"We do have some good smiths in Orzammar. I was so _very_ shocked when I discovered that," Sigrun said with a laugh.

I wasn't really paying attention to Sigrun, as Hawke was tracing the lines of blue and silverite up and down my front intently. It was very distracting, and I said, "Time to visit the Proving Grounds?"

"Anders, pay attention." Sigrun nearly shouted.

I looked at her, wondering why she'd gotten so loud.

Sigrun shook her head with a smile. "I _thought_ you were bad at the Vigil with your bedmates when you were off duty. I know several smiths who are quite willing to upgrade your armor, at a decent cost, too."

I looked at Hawke, worried about my past, but she either didn't mind or didn't catch the reference. "I will need to, my Kirkwall set is just about perfect now..."

"I think you need to replace some of the feathers, love," Hawke said against my ear. "They're starting to look a little mangy from Ser Mew's attentions."

When we passed by the common room Attryne and Alistair were there, and geared up for travel, in their uniforms yet, so Sigrun stopped. Alistair was back to being wry, as jokes about Provings, skirmishes, and travel bounced back and forth between Sigrun and the Warden with occasional comments from the rest.

The former Templar seemed relaxed as we listened while they debated combat, and I felt unexpectedly in charity with him as the rogues traded tips with each other. Their tips wouldn't help for either of us in a fight.

He stepped closer. "This does _not_ resemble my younger days at Redcliffe where women, servants or not, would chatter about cooking or children at any gathering."

I could see some of my own regret on his face. "Too bad."

"Yes, Attryne is not much for anything but the most basic of camp food, despite trying." Alistair's grin looked a little forced, but we understood each other in this.

I had to sigh, as the Warden had been nearly as close to her family before she was conscripted by Duncan as Hawke. I was the only one who had not been raised with the probability of having a family, so how much harder might it be for them?

There were no good answers, but what would happen to any surviving Wardens after the last Archdemon was destroyed?

They finished their goodbyes. Attryne and Alistair were planning a discreet swing through other lands, checking on how Wardens were faring through the current unrest, and it sounded like they were planning to encourage some restraint against supporting the Templars. They had been little help against the darkspawn or Blight over the years and that was the Wardens' priority.

Just before they left, Attryne called over to me. "Anders, I suspect I will have a mission for you by late summer. I should find out in a couple of months or so, so check at those bases."

"I will." I worried about what she had in mind even as they left.

"Well, now," Sigrun said, rubbing her hands together. "Let's take out our 'new Warden,' with Anders in his new armor, over to the Proving sponsors and veterans. They won't possibly think Hawke is the new Warden, and we won't mention it. If we play it right, we can take more profit that the Warden missed out on for her Proving."

We must have looked like exotic dancers from Rivain from the silence as we moved towards the far end of the Proving hall. It had been a very long time since I saw this many dwarves looking at me appraisingly; actually they never had before. Most of my life I had been evaluated, but it was more often because I was feared, not for wagering. Still as Hawke and I followed Sigrun, I made an effort to look nervous and in awe at the high clan dwarves.

It wasn't completely a pose, as it would be different than fighting Carta or mercenaries above. The ceiling was much lower than the grand central cavern that made up much of Orzammar, and the statues seemed much more massive as they filled the entire height of the room.

Chatter swirled around us and I heard interest in their voices and 'Wardens' mentioned in every conversation. A few recognized Hawke by name from last time, if they didn't know her title. They were more interested in what my inclusion meant. Further in, I overheard the first identification as a Gray Warden mage.

Hawke was playing along, with a smug smile daring the watching dwarves to say something as she caressed a dagger on her belt.

Sigrun stopped in front of a dwarf with the more traditional dwarven fashion than the look I'd gotten used to with Varric and Sigrun.

"Varick, you shriveled nug! Any upcoming Provings to show to my friends here. Gotta get the new Warden familiar with Orzammar, too," Sigrun caroled.

Hawke met my eyes, and I could see she also wanted to laugh, as this dwarf was as far from our paragon as I thought he could be.

His frown came in only only a second after her greeting, "Warden... Wardens. Warden Sigrun, you do know that I am to be addressed by my title. These Provings are for dwarves."

Undeterred, Sigrun nodded and agreed. "Proving Master, you also know Wardens are granted permission, to prove their worth to the thaig. This Warden here, with his first uniform, could use the practice against groups of Orzammar dwarves. He's faced the casteless above..." Sigrun said as if that was a disease.

That was unexpected, as she never seemed to think less of casteless. Then I saw how those around us gave an approving mutter that rippled out at her words.

"King Bhelen has granted them rights, and some don't care about tradition, especially in the Merchant clans. But the woman..." the Proving Master almost sputtered.

"She fought here before, Varick. That objection is played out now. You know it'll make for a good match and you used to love those before Zag... before the last Proving Master was cast into the Deep Roads. Your fighters around here don't get out into real fights often enough, not like these humans always do. Are dwarva in Orzammar so soft now? I'll match these these two against any fair match! Unless Orzammar can't provide those anymore because the rock has thinned out of the blood in this nug-infested pock-hole?"

Even I knew how inflammatory that was, and heard some growls from the watching nobles and gamblers. The Proving Master had a smile in his eyes when several of the better dressed insisted on letting Hawke and I in, Warden or not.

Sigrun and he began some kind of arcane negotiations about shares and fees. Sigrun only paused to wave us away with a cheery, "Don't bet your horse on any game."

I saw the others starting to mill around us, not quite approaching us but subtly blocking the others from doing so either. Finally, three of them, not quite at the same time but close enough, introduced themselves to us. Staying quiet was hard enough, as they thought I was a stripling since I was new here. Roshen seemed the most experienced, though Grarak and Mahark Hirriman were also trying to find out what kind and how many darkspawn I'd fought. Their questions and rude propositions to Hawke got annoying, so I started simpering and clinging to her like a frightened fool at the thought of ogres and emissaries.

Hawke's eyes widened when I started, and she looked up at the dark ceiling for a moment; I could feel the tremors that she was suppressing laughter.

_**Why are you showing yourself like this? Duels should be honorable.**_

_These aren't duels. Justice, Sigrun as much as told us that a degree of deception and trickery is normal. The fights are supposed to be honest, but we shouldn't show our cards in a Diamondback game either. She just didn't say Hawke is a Warden this time._

_**You are not a new warden, you are senior to her.**_

_Only by weeks and Sigrun didn't try to leave like I did. _ That gave me a breath of sadness, I'd missed some of the Wardens more than I'd allowed myself to remember.

_**This is not a fair competition, if they think Hawke is not a Warden. They respect them.**_

_They will have secrets, too. We can hope their secrets aren't enough to harm us._

_**I cannot like this deception like this, only for money and pride.**_

_Almost all money, Justice. Some good we want to do requires it. A well placed bribe can do more than a spell._

I could feel that he still disapproved. _What if you talk to Sigrun later, and she can explain dwarven custom better?_

He was silent again and he was even less pleased when dwarves spoke at us all at once, with what seemed like more conversations than there were dwarves. Grarak crudely propositioned the both of us, which turned Justice's ire outward again. Roshen liked that we wouldn't be making trouble like casteless dwarves by demanding adoption if we won; the old and greatly admired Proving Master encouraged them in thinking that for 'better' Provings. Mahark seemed a decent sort, but the others acted like he was a blood mage for some reason I couldn't see. Others spoke too, but they made less impression.

After that, few actually approached us. I saw two dwarven females in armor, expensive armor, who watched us appraisingly. Maybe another score of dwarven warriors were observing each other and then us. Some nobles and their guards approached and greeted Hawke, even trying to learn more about my magic. I obliged by summoning small balls of fire into my hand, an apprentice's trick.

Other dwarves weren't participants and wore duller and more worn clothing. A few stepped forward to threaten us, as humans, as weak and 'unable to stand like the Stone.' We couldn't possibly face Orzammar's might.

That bluster only made Hawke smirk more.

Maybe Hawke saw that I was getting irritated at their threats, but she led me away after a quick call to Sigrun that we were leaving.

Whispering with a nasty edge followed us out, but I didn't care. That didn't bother me compared to the usual hate above ground.

Over the next week Hawke got more used to the increased appetites.

Attryne hadn't known much before mine, and the press of the Blight and First meant I'd had little time to adjust at first. There weren't that many to dally with at the Vigil or amusement while we were chasing after the Architect either, as most feared me as a mage more than the Warden attraction helped. So I'd had fewer bedmates than I'd expected. That was probably good practice for my first years with Justice.

Suddenly I understood more of Attryne's refusal to flirt with me then, even as she had an antagonistic relationship at first with the other nobleman, Nathaniel. She'd shared nightmares with Alistair, but if she'd been any warmer to me, I'd have thought she wanted sex. I thought I needed that connection. I'd admired her then and kept trying for more. I wasn't used to comfort yet.

One night, Dera woke me with a strangled whine. As I woke, I could feel that she was rigid with fear and the noises she made hurt my ears to hear. As I watched, she curled up as if to hide.

Carefully, I rubbed her shoulder, hoping to wake her gently, but she shoved me away, slashing her hand as if she was armed. Her shriek rose through her sinuses as I rolled to the floor. Paws rose and looked at us, unsure of what was happening, and Ser Mew looked up from his place on a shelf.

Worried now that Hawke might grab some hidden dagger if I tried again, I shouted, "Hawke! Wake up!" After a few seconds, I called again and slid a hand into hers. "Love!"

Still tense, Hawke gripped my palm almost to the point of pain, her attention in the opposite direction.

With a little effort, I pulled her hand toward me, drawing the back of her hand to my lips and against my face. Something sank in through the nightmare and her next breath was a puff of surprise in the dimness.

I could feel even her hand relax and I returned to the bed alongside her, slipping an arm around her.

Even if Dera had woken and wasn't fear-struck, her breathing was still too fast. I held her close, murmuring until we were both calm.

She finally spoke. "I can't say that nightmare was easy to escape."

"You get used to them, love, after you adjust. Those senior to me once said they are much worse during a Blight." I wasn't as experienced as other Wardens there. "You can tell me."

She thought about it for a moment or three and finally said, "There were so many darkspawn, even those I'd never seen before. Some were bloated like a carcass but still alive with fleshy bits seeking to entangle like magic vines, and others were like living skeletons in parodies of the headdresses of a Chantry ceremony who spoke with persuasive voices. I couldn't refute their words, and that scared me."

"Some spawn could and did speak intelligently. I hope their time has passed, but they can be killed like any other spawn. I've heard no hints that any of the greater Darkspawn escaped us. They are terrible, and I pray to never see a First again." I held her, trying to put the Architect out of mind. "We are safe here. I will keep you safe as you sleep, love."

Her smile a little weak, Dera brushed my cheek. "Thanks, Anders. Don't stay up too late."

She fell asleep fairly quickly, breathing steadily in my arms, until I fell into sleep as well.

Dera comforted me after my nightmares returned in the winter.

And now I comforted her.

_- x -_

_A/N: The chapter title is adapted from a quote by Herbert Spencer. Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	7. Suitable Preparations

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Orzammar, The Grey Warden outpost**

**Anders:**

After a decade without dreams, good or bad, I was still trying to readjust. Nightmares I had, of darkspawn, of Templars, and of Hawke and the so many ways I could lose her. But unlike before I merged with Justice, demons did not trouble me in the Fade anymore. This inn was full up.

I'd once envied the Commander and the others who didn't have to fear their dreams. They woke terrified or in grief, but woke intact aside from being tired. It wasn't until Blackmarsh that I started to understand that they had fewer options when dreaming. Now with Hawke I was very aware. She woke too many mornings, somehow defeated and refused to speak about it other than making poor jokes about running.

I couldn't help her in the Fade, I had to face Darkspawn nightmares again myself.

_At first I didn't remember seeing Justice in my dreams, but back in Hallowdingle he started to appear in his original glowing Fade armor from Blackmarsh. Soon it shifted to the black armor that a smirking Attryne had given him, but when he lifted the helm he now had my face instead of Kristof's. _

_If he still had the hollow flesh and my face, I might have panicked._

_A few dreams, he silently interceded before demons had more than manifested, but even one that dripped power backed off. I didn't see him in every nightmare, but nothing tried to tempt me either._

_It took until Hawke's Joining for him to manifest in a dream without a demon threatening. He wore my armor, the black set we'd worked on in Kirkwall, but when I looked down, I was wearing Grey Warden armor._

_I wanted to spit, even if it was pointless here. "I'm a mage, and a healer."_

_Justice spoke here, the echoes absorbed by the Fade around us. **"You are also a warrior for the causes of mages and against the Blight."**_

"_Are we both here in the Fade?" I wondered. It had been so long since we could talk face to face as it were._

"_**Yes,"** Justice said in a quieter voice, a bit lighter than Kristof's. _

"_Are you going to nag me about fighting again?"_

_Shaking his head. **"No, I overestimated your distraction by carnal things."**_

"_We have to have something to fight for. All the mages in Thedas don't have faces, like a mage child torn from her parents. I have to remember their faces and their families, torn apart for no reason. Even remember my mistakes like Ella."_

"_**I have..."** he started to say._

"_No, I'd been fine until I saw Alrik threatening her. His threats and conviction that he could do anything he wanted without being called on it was too much. Mages came to believe that they deserved prison and that Tranquility might even be desirable. I might have burned the Gallows right then if I could have. I thought Ella... _

"_I wasn't thinking. Later I saw the letter she'd sent Hawke." I should have seen that she had been scared and ignorant._

"_**When will you return to the fight?"** Justice asked after a very long moment of silence._

"_Soon, and then we will need to learn which Circles didn't fall. Orlais will probably be the last and we will need many allies as the Chantry is its own empire like Tevinter."_

"_**Yes..."** he agreed, as on these things we were more as one. Justice fell behind or faded away as we crossed the Fade. _

_The Black City floated on the horizon like a harvest moon, huge and looming low. I could almost believe a large ladder would be enough to reach it. I didn't believe the Chantry dogma about the first darkspawn, but the Black City was as fascinating a location and concept to be so universal. Was it covered in grime, was there still gold under the black only waiting for someone with a good scrub-brush to get there? I refused to believe the Maker gave so many of us curiosity and magic to want us to not use it. That's be like giving us lungs and expecting us to turn blue and die because breathing might offend someone._

_Or was the Black City only a concept, like the Tevinter robes I might wear in a nightmare? How could a concept be that dangerous? There was something there, but it eluded me, and I wished Hawke was here to discuss it with._

_In the way of dreams, she was beyond the next hill. I knew this was only a dream, but she was in a fine robe as she grinned and held her hand up to beckon me. That wasn't what caught my attention, but that Aldera was very pregnant and held that glow that so many ragged refugees in Darktown had managed to have despite their poverty. With that sight, I was filled with joy and a trace of bitterness because this wasn't really her. _

_My dream dissolved back into sleep before I could even touch her._

At least I woke with Dera sleeping in my arms, a little less curvy than in my dream. Her smile as she woke was so much more solid and real than the Fade.

She'd been preoccupied, but I couldn't tell if it was because of her Joining or not. Maybe I was afraid to ask.

My new Warden armor was good, but my own had been enhanced many times over the years. Even when I scavenged some bits of my teal armor to finish the blacks, I hadn't wanted to lose my old enhancements. Some I'd found or made, and some Hawke had found for me. I wasn't stripping _my_ armor for this Warden set.

I wasn't that upset at the idea of leaving my 'warrior' disguise behind. My own robes and the new Warden ones would have to be enough.

Thank the Maker, Sigrun understood. She gave us directions for armorers who would make more favorable bargains with a Grey Warden. The one smith wasn't that interested in helping a human, but his armors had a style and I could feel enhancements deep in the metal.

He was rude but he was that good, so I handed my Warden armor over for their first addition. I was tempted to make changes in the style or detail, but had to remember this was to make me more anonymous.

The other armorers were good too, but they didn't seem as interested in working with a human. Or a mage, I wasn't sure which.

Coming out of a forge, one of the dusty dwarves, a woman with a large and blue facial tattoo, spoke to me and ignored Hawke. "You the new Warden, gonna be in a Proving soon?"

Expecting attempts at intimidation before then, I simply agreed. "Yes?"

"Thought so. You Wardens don't have the nicest digs, do you? You have to go out into that _weather_ to even lay your head down in that hall inside a warm bit like her... nice view, too." she said almost absently while looking up at Hawke.

Hawke was not amused and stepped back behind me, her cheeks flaming.

The dwarven woman snickered, saying, "Oh, the bitch likes 'em men and tall? Doesn't matter they're no taller where it counts. Not in giving a girl any future. You do know his lot don't last that long? No promises, no marriage, no stake in any venture but _his shaft._ He only wants you to keep the cold of the Deeps away before he goes down deep." Her voice slid down like her attention.

These words hit my fears too closely and I reached back blindly, to find Hawke's hand. I asked the female, "What was it you stopped us about?"

"Well, to have a future, a stake for when the Warden here disappears into the Deep Roads, you're going to need money. I happen to have a bright and shiny offer for you, duster. If you could be persuaded to be welcoming to friends of mine..." she said with a sly grin.

Hawke gripped my hand, but that didn't distract me from my growing annoyance...

_**Welcoming? What does this woman mean by that?**_

_I think you have the general idea, Justice. Though we should make sure._

Coughing, I managed to say, "I'm always a friendly fellow, ask anyone, but I'd need to know how friendly and who your special friend is. I'm not all that good at remembering faces, you see."

She pointed up at the bridge to the Proving area, where a white haired dwarf waved back to her. "He's a veteran on many Provings, but he needs a little help recovering after his last loss,,,"

"That's were I come in, I suppose," I asked with a grin, pulling Hawke forward. "I have expenses and the Wardens don't pay too well. I like to keep her smiles golden..."

Justice rumbled at my act.

This dwarven woman smiled even more broadly. "Of course we here in Orzammar admire the Wardens. This way you can relax in your second match, and save yourself for the darkspawn. This should even help your conquest here, console herself when you've moved on." With that she pulled out and dangled a large pouch that clinked with the sounds of metal.

Holding my grin, I squeezed Hawke's hand. Justice objected, but...

As expected, Hawke took a step forward and slapped the bag out of the dwarf's hand, "Bullshit! Or maybe I should say nug-shit! You can't buy us."

The dwarven woman looked at me, expecting my objection, but I only smiled and raised our gripped hands.

"Pole-lickers and 'spawn fuckers. That's fine, there'll be plenty of other Provings, but that duster Warden isn't here to protect a newcomer like you..." She whistled and more dwarves melted out of alcoves and doorways.

Hawke and I separated and went back to back to prepare. Paws growled between us as they spread out around. Dera took out the leader as I spun up my defenses. It didn't take us very long for the smarter ones to get away.

Hawke scooped up the coin pouch with a grin and tossed it to me before checking the other bodies. "Oh no, Warden. I need protection. We'd better go find Sigrun. Run! Run!"

I grabbed the pouch of coin, their attacking a Gray Warden over this was stupid. Sigrun would have killed them if we fell.

Merchants who'd ignored the fight, continued ignoring us as we left.

Improvements to my armor were going to be pricy, but I ordered them anyway with the money from the failed bribe. Now that I was being more open about my presence as a Warden, I decided to visit the shops inside Orzammar, as well as the Circle tunnel nearly across the market clearing from the Warden post. I'd heard that the merchants sold lyrium for almost nothing here.

I was still uneasy about any underground Circle, with very limited ways to escape. I brought Hawke with me, keeping hold of her hand.

The entrance had been assuring, it looked like an apprentice was going outside without a guard. She directed us inward. In the first chamber I saw a Templar... a Templar in full kit, and I gripped my staff, wanting to fight. When he looked up, I saw that his eyes were clouded from lyrium use.

"Warden." He spoke calmly, and much more clearly than they usually could this far gone.

"I'd like to speak to the First Enchanter..." I gripped Hawke much too tightly for an instant.

"He is meeting with a representative from the Collective, can First Archivist see you?" he asked.

I looked at Hawke a little helplessly. I wasn't used to polite Templars, without at least an edge to their voices when they saw a mage.

"Yes," Hawke agreed. "You are?"

His smile was so calm to almost seem Tranquil, making me feel a mix of fear and revulsion. "I am Ser Carroll."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Ser Hawke," she baldly said. "Where would we find the Archivist?"

Following his directions, I saw several more Templars and mages in rooms we passed through, but the Templars were doing other tasks, not standing over the mages or standing by doorways. When we knocked on the door and entered, I was surprised to see the Archivist was a female dwarf, a bit on the young side to be first anything.

She had a pile of tomes around her on the desk as I would expect, but her being a dwarf surprised me as well. She greeted us with a big smile. "Good day, Warden. I'm Dagna. Was there something you needed?"

As I was addressed, I should answer. All I could ask was, "A Circle, here?"

"This is the best place to study lyrium and its effects, on dwarves, humans and elves and their dreaming. I found it was much too expensive to study it elsewhere so I came back here. A few recently Harrowed decided to come here too, and then some lyrium addled volunteered and then..." She paused and looked embarrassed. "I suppose you aren't here to learn about our research are you? Though it is very interesting, we're trying to help some of the Templars recover from lyrium. I have exciting new data from the Marches about an example of catastrophic lyrium poisoning, but I haven't been able to get a sample of the artifacts or corpse as yet. There are some somewhat obscure tracts in the oldest codices, but I'd dismissed them when..." She paused again, looking a little flustered.

By this point I was smiling, as her enthusiasm was infectious. "No, we...I'm just here to make sure there aren't any wishing to become Wardens. Would it be possible to meet with the First Enchanter?"

"Yes, this is a much smaller tower. His connections help with relations." She spoke with a fondness.

I looked at Hawke. "We can wait."

"Well, if you don't mind waiting in the hall, I can take you to his office."

An older woman with the slightly furtive look of another apostate left the office as we waited, and a light voice called out for us to enter. As we were the only ones there, we stood and brushed our clothing neat before entering.

The mage seemed much too young and I found my jaw dropping in shock. He had a neat beard and dressed more like a noble, than a mage in robes.

He looked irritated at my surprise. "Yes, yes. I am fully trained and indeed I have passed my Harrowing. And yet, I am First Enchanter here. You can call me Conn, Warden. I would like to officially request the Wardens cease sending representatives as biased in the future."

"No, I wasn't exactly sent, I just wanted to see a Circle I'd never heard of," I told the boy. _When had this started? And why have I been unknowing?_

_**Because we were busy in Kirkwall, and fleeing since.**_

I should have realized Justice would be monitoring the Templars here closely.

"A new Warden and mage? Have you had much training? We don't have many instructors here, but I want to be the safest place to learn in Thedas," he said with some pride.

It felt like forever since I had been young and ambitious like this.

No, my ambitions at his age were much less useful. He looked only a little younger than Hawke when I met her, and I had to look at them both. Justice rumbled approval at his determination.

But he still had Templars... "What about your Templars here? You have to know how often they fall to the various demon influences when they're handed absolute power over mages? Do you know of the abuses in Kinloch and Kirkwall?"

Dera moved a little closer and ducked under my arm, the First Enchanter waved us to a bench in front of the desk, and I suddenly noticed how much plainer this room was than the rooms Irving and Orsino had had. There were some fine things, but no sullen age in the items displayed.

"Yes, Warden. I trained in Kinloch after the massacre during the Blight. I heard the whispered tales from other apprentices and saw the death lists later. Maker's blessing, it seemed the worst Templars and most militant mages who'd dabbled in blood magic all died then, before or after Uldred locked Irving up in the tower with him. Even with transfers of troublemakers from other Circles, it was years until we enough people to do more than rattle around. Her Majesty loosened some rules and ordered an internal court, and I could appeal to her...err, we could. The Templars weren't too bad, even according to the old farts." The First flushed slightly at saying that, but refused to recant.

I could respect him a little, at least for that. I was probably as old as the ones that frustrated him.

Then he waggled a finger at me like any other First Enchanter had at some point, to my surprise. His voice was only closer to cracking with his youth, "All the Templars here are here for help with their lyrium addictions. The Archivist is an expert on lyrium and the Fade, and our experiments have already brought some back into sanity. They are under my orders while they recover, as the Commanders they'd served under wrote them off. They were required to have been responsible to get treated. We take only the best. Don't be rude to those who are fighting their own demons."

I closed my eyes. I should be the last to do that, with my long battle against Vengeance. Meeting his eyes, I said, "I would not mock an earnest... patient like that. Thank you for explaining," I said after Hawke nudged me.

And really, this didn't seem too bad, more like what I hoped for with no Chantry or even Tranquil I'd seen.

Happening behind my back.

I hoped this Circle succeeded and offered my hand, "This Warden hopes you prosper. I wish I could help, but I don't know where my duty will take me next." Not exactly my Warden duty, but we'd serve this place best by avoiding it.

That truth hurt a little, but Hawke hugged me after we left the Circle.

After that we returned for another snack for Hawke, waiting for Sigrun to finish arrangements for this... job. We visited the Proving House again days later to let them see us, but a dwarf with a neat and trim beard hailed Sigrun as soon as we entered.

"Warden!" He tried in block her going further in. "If you need an extra hand, I'd be happy to hire on to fill in your team."

I wasn't the only one of us looking at him in surprise.

"What are you doing here, Thali?" Sigrun wondered. "You lost fairly last time."

Shaking his head, he said more quietly, "No, I'm not arguing that. Very few Grey Wardens are without honor. No one cares if you shave things a little, but they're solid Stone."

"And?"

"You're going to need a fourth with the groups already forming for the later rounds... And I lost just about everything betting against you. I'm not slow to learn a lesson," the warrior claimed with a smile.

It might have been some kind of secret dwarven mating ritual, as Sigrun softened and said, "We could use someone who won't fold."

This was far more amusing and non-creepy than hearing Oghren trying to get a woman. Varric never got serious that I'd ever seen, but he hid that so very well. Sigrun was interested, and they negotiated on two levels.

But other dwarves were circling and eyeing Hawke with a few comments or leers we weren't supposed to hear. I was tired of pretending I was incompetent and uncaring of their interest.

To the void with playacting, and I stepped over to Hawke and pushed her into an alcove for some kisses. Sigrun interrupted us, and Hawke smacked my shoulder when we stopped, her face pink. Sigrun looked serious again.

This time more wanted to see us do something: spar, skin a bear, spit and debone darkspawn. Sigrun said no to all the requests. Some asked crudely for a show from Hawke and I. One tried to bribe Sigrun for one match, another planning to fight us did decapitations with his ax. A record holder at that, he'd fought in the Battle of Denerim. The only real difference between this and other blood sport I'd sometimes patched up, was that this time I was fighting.

Some more posturing, and the matches were settled, five matches the day after tomorrow. I was starting to get more interested; they were confused about me. And honestly it would be nice to let loose a little without worrying about Templars being a threat. There was no Chantry here, their only concern about me as a mage and Warden was if I would be an interesting opponent and worth betting for or against.

My interest was in seeing if I could get into the Shaperate that one bettor enthused about, the idea that dwarves even had a great library of some kind had never occurred to me. Oghren had been a bad influence on my ideas of what dwarves were like. Varric was the incorrect exception.

Once we left the Proving grounds I asked Sigrun, "What was this I overheard about a Shaperate? Can I see that?"

She seemed embarrassed but admitted, "Didn't think you'd be interested, Sparklefingers. There wouldn't be any new magic there."

"New herbs, new history untainted by the Chantry's lies, even new stories about darkspawn... why wouldn't I be interested?" I said, waving a hand. "Do they let humans in?"

Hawke snickered at me. "We might get around that if you can be sneaky for a change."

"No, it won't be a problem, the Commander added to the collection while she was here during the Blight. For most everything, Wardens are considered like an honored warrior clan that doesn't have their own halls; this despite all other humans are often banned entrance into Orzammar. I can take you there now..." Sigrun finished with a smirk.

The Shaperate reminded me of the Archives at the Circle, and I wondered if the young First Enchanter even had access here. Still when I saw the massive stone shelves reaching up much taller than any using them, I stopped inside the doorway to stare and Hawke had to pull me inside.

We spent hours there; well, the rest of the time it was open to the public that day. Sigrun left us once we'd been introduced, and I lost myself in herbals and studies no less useful for not relying on magic. This was probably where some on the books in the Warden outpost came from.

Hawke quickly found three books and was settled reading, I acquired sheets of something to record my notes on. One old book had only been a rumor referred to in Kinloch, it had been thought to be lost since the second Blight. Some parenthetical comments in margins said that some who'd studied this copy were mages. I wanted a full copy and worked feverishly.

What other things were hiding here, lost to the upper world?

It wasn't a long herbal, but I wanted it all copied before our match.

_- x -_

_A/N: Chapter title adapted from a quote by Horace. Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	8. In War, Amgarrak

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Chapter 8: In war, Amgarrak **

**Orzammar, The Grey Warden outpost**

**Hawke:**

I was glad we didn't have to escort Sigrun to all her negotiations. I couldn't pretend I understood the nuances of the boasting and misdirection here. Worse, I didn't like standing around on display during the negotiations.

The dwarves, even with our previous Proving, weren't sure where to class me. I was non-merchant and non-Warden. No Wardens had mentioned my change. Sigrun was convincing or the betting was good. There Anders was with his very new set of enchanted Warden armor.

Here I was getting more irritated from this attention. What did they think we would do? Whip a genlock out of my pack, fillet it and serve it as a tainted snack?

The final few days as Sigrun finished negotiations left me tense, and I was glad to join Anders in the Shaperate stacks. He tried to keep himself occupied with research and ignore being underground.

I'd been very interested to read the dwarven opinions about recent surface events, and one slim volume had recent news about the Free Marches. There wasn't much more current than the Qun uprising and some trade notes, though it did record the passing of Vael's family with some comments about a slight Chantry power shift there.

I wondered if Sebastian knew of this or if it affected his plans. Drumming my fingers against the seat of the stone bench, I wondered if I could or should pass on their analysis of the Shaperate. I really couldn't see him as a wandering knight for long. Starkhaven was too close to his heart.

Nor was I quite sure how to warn him, but then I had an idea and I set the volume aside. If there were copies still being sold like Varric's books, I could buy one. Writing a message to go with it would be a fun exercise, playing with florid prose I stole from one of Varric's tales should be entertaining.

After thinking better of it, I wrote a neutral note on a plain sheet of paper, signing it as from Brana. I toyed with mentioning my conscription, but decided that wasn't staying very quiet as the Warden wanted.

Then I peeked at my mage. He was scribbling notes from some text and had both his journal and a tome in front of him. He didn't seem very aware of anything.

Remembering his manifesto, I felt a pang of fear. So many nights he scribbled his manifestos instead of sleeping. I moved to look over his shoulder. "What's that?"

Anders started and looked up at me, blinking. "Healing, it's an herbal that was thought long lost in the Circle. Identifying rare poisons and how to treat them. I think the names changed over the ages, but... the symptoms match one of the Crow poisons." His eyes focused on me and he looked dismayed. "I'm sorry to worry you, love. Forgive an old healer?"

He was fine and I could smile again.

"Any poisons reasonably safe for me to make and use?" I hadn't had any good source for poisons for a while, and I never had the knack for making them myself.

He looked doubtful, but he ran through the same realizations before he said anything. "I don't know that much about it, Sigrun might."

Satisfied that he wasn't obsessing again, I kissed his brow, but he turned to make it real before we returned to our reading, with me leaning against him on the bench.

Reading the other essays, it became clear that the writer and readers were not expected to be appreciative of the Chantry's opinion on much. Of course, the dwarves also had somewhat cordial relations with Tevinter by the age of the statues in Hightown and workmanship of the damn slaver statues that tried to kill us. They also built much of the Chantry's grandeur. I couldn't quite admire how they sailed from the favor of one group of abusers to another, selling to both sides.

Justice had too narrow a vision sometimes.

The next book about the Free Marches didn't help as it had to be one of Varric's; I put it aside after only a brief read. The Champion in that story made me sound like I was able to stop a dragon with a well placed oath.

I wished it had been that easy.

The only problem with reading in the Shaperate was that I couldn't take anything with me, and I wanted to. I visited some of the merchants before we returned to the Warden post, looking for something I could drop in a puddle without feeling guilty. There was a small stack of bright copies of one of Varric's books about the battle with the Arishok. My face got warm seeing the descriptions on the cover. The cover art made me look shorter and much more heavily... armored.

I didn't buy that one, but I did find the same volume as from the Shaperate that I wanted to send to Sebastian.

Anders chuckled at me, but bought another journal for his notes while I looked over some fine jewelry at the next table. They were nice, but I rubbed my earring, twin to the one Anders wore. More jewelry to wear just wasn't something for a fugitive to indulge in.

I stayed outside with Paws to explore the closed down human trade camp for a while. The fresh air and spring growth was a nice change from being underground. After a few minutes, we ran back inside and hauled Anders outside for the fresh air.

It was dark, but he relaxed as we tossed a branch for Paws for a while.

Inside after another hearty meal, I was almost feeling guilty; I'd been a warden for a while now, and I hadn't killed any darkspawn since my Joining. Nor had I replied to Bethany's letter that Sigrun had given me the day after my Joining. It had been carefully worded and sent without knowing if or when I would get it, so she couldn't really expect a quick reply.

But I had left this task undone for too many days, which also made me irritable with guilt.

I still didn't know what to say. Attryne had said we were not to volunteer news about my conscription, but I did not want to lie to my sister. She'd been so bitter about her Joining for so long, but I felt sure she would not like it whenever she learned.

Anders was reading a new leather-bound book while stretched out on our bed, when I finally decided that I had to write something, anything, to Bethany.

_**Dear Bethany,**_

_**We're fine, hope you are too. Some old friends of his encouraged our return here, but I don't know how long we'll stay. His partner has relaxed. The sacred Urn of Sacred Ashes exists, like those rumors said after the Blight. The shrine had some problems before we arrived. The Urn's very... **_

I crossed out my first several tries: ornate, scary, awe-inspiring, old, shiny, and finished with

_**looming for what looks like a really big goblet. I'm not sure what**_

I wanted to mention seeing Carver, but that was too hard to explain in a letter.

_**...more to say. One test nearly made me laugh, despite where we were. **_

_**We have some things we need to do here before choosing a new destination. I want to see if we can add Carver to the memorial if it's still there. Maybe I might order a new one if necessary.**_

_**He's a laugh when trying to deal with horses. He's only slightly better than he'd been with Paws.**_

I scratched my cheek with the pen still in hand, and couldn't think of anything else to say to her. I didn't want to end it there, but we'd never been the kind of sisters to gossip about how handsome the farmer boys were, not even when we worked for Athenril. I was usually planning what we had to do next, especially after Papa had died.

Anything I could add was almost meaningless. So I wrote the most neutral farewells I could, that I hoped to see her and that I wanted her to be careful.

Sigrun had assured me that my message could go with latest alerts and the Wardens' lyrium supply.

Looking my letter, I felt my face warm. We'd been close, once; I heard about Bethany's little crushes in Lothering and more serious fears when one potential beau had signed on into Chantry service before they'd done much more than flirt.

Now I didn't know what to say; I didn't know what her life had become, nor she mine. This was the first time I'd gotten a letter from her. Maybe I hoped a little that we'd have more in common if we were both Wardens; but I doubted it now. Was it the years that had passed or secrets that lay between us?

I didn't know.

My little sister that I'd loved and protected was gone forever and all we had were the polite exchanges drilled into us as children. I had more in common with my dead brother in the Gauntlet.

That made me smile, despite myself, because that was morbid. But it was true I missed him more right now. He'd wanted to become a Grey Warden.

Once I closed the envelope with a seal I'd found in the desk, I pretended to read again.

"Love?" Anders had long removed the outer parts of his Warden armor, and wore only his blue under-tunic. He was smirking as he came over to the desk. "Come join with me?"

"Didn't I do that several times already?" I asked with a small smile.

"Recruits need to be drilled into their Deep Roads, until their taint had been mastered..." He'd moved closer and knelt, until little separated us but our clothing.

Kissing him, I admitted, "I'm a slow learner sometimes."

"I can be a very patient teacher, for pretty ladies," he said, unlatching my belt and pulling my sash out, leaving the belt in place. Sliding his fingers under the straps, what normally itched, tingled with warmth instead.

I stuttered. "You need some new puns there, Isabela used those after Av... Av..."

He'd reached a sensitive area around an old scar and I couldn't help arching, all coherent thought fleeing. I pulled his face to mine, loosening his hair enough that a hair bead or two bounced off the floor.

No words came from my mage, but we made it to the bed, losing our clothing. At Paws' whuff, I saw that one of Anders' tosses landed on my once dozing mabari. Getting more alert again, I suspected it wasn't a total accident. We'd have to talk abou...

Now he was kissing that scar, and I wriggled. He looked up with gleaming eyes and a smile. Paws could wait.

_- x -_

The next day, Anders spent part of the early morning finishing his copying while I read about the fall of one of the old thaigs in florid prose. Only the evident age of the book prevented me from thinking it was one of Varric's, and I read it mostly as fiction. Yes, I'm sure dwarves lived in the named thaig before it fell, but I thought the other details were as open to negotiation as tales about me.

Anders was grinning as he read another book when Sigrun found us.

She grinned too. "There you are. There are boring ceremonies for the Stone's approval now that we have our deals, so we need to be there about now."

Scrambling into our armor, we made it to the Proving grounds before anyone was too upset. A long speech about Ancestors and Stone didn't make much of an impression on me at least, aside from words about the ever-present darkspawn threat.

The Proving's five matches would be the next 'day,' and neither of us slept very well. Still, we were armed and ready when Sigrun led us in. Anders wasn't as confident in his new set of armor, and he insisted that I wear my Champion armor. Thali wouldn't be in the early matches, but Sigrun didn't expect any real problems.

Now that the Proving was about to begin, my tension dropped away and I found myself grinning, showing teeth but not in humor anymore. Anders grinned back.

The first Proving match was us against a dwarven lord named Volney. He had two of his own men and hired one of the hard eyed mercenaries I'd seen earlier. The axes and armor they wore looked more like the old statues than what I'd seen living dwarves wearing on the surface or here in Orzammar. He had venomous words for Sigrun before the match started. It sounded like she had beaten him several times before.

This time was no different.

None even got very close to Anders, as much of Volney's attention was for Sigrun. They charged me with those big axes that gleamed with jewels, but it was very clear that they had not chosen any runes to quicken their attacks.

I couldn't stop grinning as this was so much better than the endless waiting of the last few days. Anders smiled as well, holding his staff more like a spear in a looser stance than his usual stabbing down from his greater height at any who thought he'd be only using it like a quarterstaff. I couldn't watch enough to be sure which was fighting.

Sigrun had kept the lord and the hammer warrior busy for those first moments while I nipped behind the mercenary as Anders poked a small hole in him. The larger hilt of my Qun dagger was useful when I was willing to club him out of the Proving. The last house warrior attacked Sigrun, who rolled out of the way as Anders cast his first fire spell at the group around her.

Volney still charged after her, but the others slowed. I rushed one who was shaking off the fire and knocked him off his feet and into his boss.

Sigrun snickered at that and Volney roared, madder at her snicker than his dazed underling. Said warrior was out of the Proving next after I kicked his head while he was trying to stand again. Better a concussion than a slit throat.

Toying with the dwarven lord, Sigrun was nearly untouched, but the other one was frozen in place. Anders grinned and swung the pole end of his spear staff like a wallup hit and that dwarf slammed against hold of the disintegrating ice before becoming still.

I didn't think Sigrun needed any help. So I watched until she finished by nailing his knee and dropping him like a tree.

Sigrun nudged the helpless lord with her foot while Anders' eyes unfocussed as he checked on the dwarves. The mercenary was surprised to be healed.

The watching crowd had gone wild with some chanting Sigrun's name, which was fine with me.

We left the arena sands to wait in the nearby chamber for a few minutes, and I asked Sigrun, "Does he lose well? Is he going to be a problem when we move on?"

"No, Volney's a stubborn rock, proud of his clan honor. He really lives up to it even if he's not the brightest in other ways so I try to make sure he lives." Her grin faded. "He prob'ly thinks I'm kind of an abomination, as a duster in the Grey Wardens, but he's the best of the old ways that are slowly changing under King Bhelen."

"Oh, good," Anders said a little too brightly. "I never can figure what parts underground count as dark alleys so I can avoid them. I know which tunnel leads to the Deep Roads, and I'd rather avoid that for another fifty years."

I turned to look at him more closely. So far he seemed okay in these spacious central areas. Still I asked, "You're not feeling cramped in now, are you?" It wasn't quite the right word for how he got in small, dark places, but he understood.

With a faint smile he shook his head. "I love that dwarves make such airy places to live deep underground, though the lava is always a little hard to get used to. I sometimes want to bring something to cook. I think it was trying to rain in the market earlier, at least it doesn't rain darkspawn."

Sigrun laughed, "It does rain sometimes, but heat from the lava flow makes it evaporate quick. Some fragile imports are kept dry in shops that are carved from the Stone instead of stalls."

A gong outside the door announced that our second match was about to start.

This one was also four to our three, and wasn't all warriors; two used matching small axes that had an extra punch with each swing, compared to my daggers. This was also the team whose supporters tried to bribe and cripple us at best, so they weren't going to get much mercy from me. The plated warriors were deferred to by officials and the others as they were escorted to their starting places.

They thought they would get an easy victory or that we would be frightened after fighting their agents. It would not be that easy. Anders and I had fought rogues often and knew they could be much more immediately deadly. I knew their weaknesses as I knew my own.

The warriors could wait... Anders threw up his shield first as Sigrun yelled and plowed through half of them.

I took my first rogue down in three bloody strikes from the rear, laughing at his surprise as he tried to spin before his legs gave out from under him. Pushing some bloody hair strands off my nose, I slid to the side while checking for the biggest immediate threat.

The other had started attacking Anders before his shields got up, but he was rolling away from Anders' spell. Anders' smile was grim and spear ready; he struck into the guts of his opponent and ripped.

Sigrun must have hidden herself as the other two were rushing towards me, their weapons poised for mighty swings. I dropped a smoke grenade and moved aside enough that they stomped through the cloud where I'd been. I'd become stealthy and moved slowly behind the one as they looked for us.

Sigrun appeared and hamstrung him.

This left the last one, who threw down his weapons after a moment to realize the poor showing of the assassins outside was no coincidence. The audience booed him. He'd get to live, and I found it hard to care. They'd escalated this beyond a little bribery.

Again the crowd got loud as dwarven healers came out to check the wounded and dead. I heard individual voices crowing or cursing about their bets.

Our bets were all placed before Anders, the 'new' Warden, showed his skill. Now he'd gotten a few cheers himself as the novice in a Proving from winners of any side bets.

He looked smug and his eyes sparkled with relief as he hugged Sigrun. I got only a wink, but I had to admit she was cute.

I beat my spark of jealousy down.

When we entered the break chamber again, Anders swept me up in his arms, his intensity reminding me of our early days again. My head braced against his, he breathed, "I like this even less as a participant."

I nodded, as I didn't want to admit that these were the easier bouts. Sigrun and I exchanged glances. This combat for others' amusement tasted more bitter this time around. "Fine, but we have to find some other way to earn money. We left behind too much of what we earned in and around Kirkwall."

Sigrun sounded cynical when she said, "You could of course stay and help with a few runs into the Deep Roads. There's plenty of things left behind when the Ancestors fled the old thaigs."

Anders frowned at that and checked for injuries. Then he held me close as we waited .

The third match was those five female dwarves, a rarity here. Two looked the more grizzled, and they had plainly been watching earlier matches and most disappeared immediately as did Sigrun.

I would not leave Anders to be their only target, so I moved very close to his back until they made their move. Anders prepared part of his defense until they appeared and I had a stun grenade hidden and ready in my fist.

It might have been only seconds while we waited, but it felt like much longer.

The wait ended when one brushed me even as she was moving to stab one of us, it didn't matter which. My stun dropped as I moved behind that first woman.

Anders' protective bubble should last long enough to take at least one down. Soon my opponent was out and another frozen, both rogues. I was about to attack the one fighting Sigrun when Anders shouted, "Hawke!"

Before I could react, that one hit bone, jolting my whole frame into the void. I was nearly paralyzed and shock loomed as the dwarven woman ripped the dagger out.

The pain hadn't really started yet, but I was still turning ever so slowly as I started to drop. One was moving towards him and I couldn't even warn him.

Anders shouted again though it sounded warped, and ice crystals made huge spikes all around me.

The last of the arcing droplets of blood landed on the crystals. It was almost pretty as it slid down the ice. I could hear a deeply voiced curse, as if he was on the edge of Justice appearing, but instead I felt a wave of healing rise like a tide as he called on his healing talent. spreading out like a warm wave.

My vision steadied. Anders cast another healing spell as I straightened up and finished my turn, speeding up with a probably blood-drenched grin.

"Much faster than some potion," I said into my opponent's face as I stabbed a dagger into her.

She dropped as Sigrun got her in the back too, and the roar of the crowd finally reached my perceptions. We were the only ones standing.

Anders cast a single spell that affected the dwarven women, then closed to engulf me in a hug. "No more after this, Hawke." An undercurrent to his grin said how seriously he meant it.

"These last matches will be worse, they were last time," I agreed. I had no more words for the moment so I simply kissed him.

Not that Anders ever complained about that.

_- x -_

_A/N: Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	9. In War, Amgarrak, pt 2

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Chapter 9: In war, Amgarrak, pt. 2**

**Orzammar, Proving Grounds**

**Anders:**

Some of the crowd noise was now whistling at us, and Hawke was getting uncomfortable at that. Or I hoped she understood how much I was growing to hate this.

This wasn't fighting for defense or even a cause, but for pride and maybe some vengeance. That explained why Justice had been disapproving even if he had been quiet. Greed, a flavor of lust was the least dangerous reason and had been easy enough to fall in with.

It was a good thing that demons could not tempt dwarves directly in their dreams, because Orzammar would have been a banquet.

Holding her close, I thanked the Maker we'd made it through in good shape so far.

Sigrun pulled us back to the break room with a smug grin. "You humans, you really didn't have to make yourselves this obvious to the dusters up there and the other competitors. Good thing we have some help for the next match."

Thali was waiting in the small chamber, polishing the bright metal bits of his shield. "It's 'bout time for you to get in here. That took a while."

Sigrun was perfectly smug when she drawled, "A few bitches got in the way of our rendezvous. Hope you didn't have that date planned for tonight. They aren't quite in top condition."

A chuckle greeted that and the warrior spit. "No, I've fought those dusters several times, they aren't the most friendly sort."

Sigrun sobered. "They've been in Provings for over a decade, longer than I've been stationed here. I think they may have a backer, as they don't fight that often and they have the time to recover. But no one is talking. Doesn't matter now, as we beat them with only three."

"The next bunch are nasty though," Thali added. "Piotin ran through a lot of dusters over the years, not bothering to even bother to pay for enough healing potions. Pay's good, but death rate is too high for many to want to fight them anymore. He got whupped by the Warden-Kingmaker and doesn't try any out of arena games on his opponents; so he's better than some. In matches though..."

"I know, but his loud contempt in the Assembly has effectively blocked recruitment here. He won't fight me alone, and I won't die for Diamond district blockage. We train most Wardens from the west, even if few..." The dwarven commander looked more frustrated than cheerful.

"Any other advice for this round?" Hawke wondered.

"I'm sure he thinks he's got you figured out, but we'll see what the Ancestors think of that," Thali said with a grim smile.

"Love..." I pulled Hawke back towards the alcove where water was waiting in a metal urn.

She poured herself a large mug and started drinking thirstily while I watched. Her brown hair was matted from sweat and her subtle ink decorations weren't very visible under the grime. Her eyes were bright with the green of life though, and my heart skipped a beat as her drive to carry us through this began to shine again.

One of the newer Wardens, possibly banned from the match, was reading a book. I looked closer and realized that he was reading one of Varric's books, in as plain a cover as the one I had.

I turned Hawke away, I didn't want her to pick up on that detail. I bruised easily.

No, not really, though I was sure she'd burn it to ashes in the nearest lava before I could finish reading it. It was a popular book from what the merchant said. The other stack of them had a portrait of a champion, at least one looking more like what was expected here. While I paid, I was told confidentially that it resembled the king's late sister, who had died in the Deep Roads under suspicious circumstances. So far Hawke hadn't looked at my new book.

She finished drinking and gave me the mug, refilled with cool water with a slight flavor of stone.

A few minutes later the warning rang for the next match.

We went out onto the Proving Grounds for the fourth match, and their group was also larger, this one built of axe warriors. The axes seemed taller than they were, which I thought funny, It wasn't that amusing when one used the broad butt of the haft to vault and land with his feet first on Hawke. She'd already taken one down, but I threw my shield on her. Two came for me and I sent them tumbling back.

When I next looked, Hawke had moved beside me, panting. She was hunched with the look of someone with broken ribs as she dropped a grenade where another fighter was yelling and was about to charge us.

Sigrun had just tripped another fighter and Thali attacked the poleax wielder. Another ice spell extended our breather. The one axeman swept both Hawke and I, but she moved behind to attack. I was preparing another ice spell when I was suddenly flying through the air.

When I landed, I couldn't move. I was facing the wall of the arena. I was blacking out as I tried for healing desperately and I heard Hawke screaming...

The damage was severe and my spine nearly separated into two. I tried to concentrate, but I could feel the Fade opening to me...

_No! Not yet! _

_Hawke!_

_**Focus.**_

_Wha-?_

_**Focus.**_

_But I want to find out what it..._

_**Focus. I cannot... spirits cannot do creation magic alone. You must. No First Children can from what any have said. Focus, mage... Anders.**_

My hearing sharpened and I heard Hawke grunt. I drew on creation enough to surround us with healing energy and healed everyone a little. It wasn't enough for me to stand, but I heard a gurgle and another shout from Hawke.

It was driving me mad that I couldn't see what was happening. Thali was fighting, too. I heard the sound of blades hitting his shield and he grunted from the impacts.

Torn between listening for Hawke and praying I wasn't about to hear her die, I gathered the will to try to finish healing myself so I could help. Another death gurgle. Panting breaths and a spray of sand hit me, before a pinched voice said fearfully, "Anders?"

I could only pant shallowly. "Don't turn me over, love. Sand's in wound..."

Then came a sob I could barely hear over the crowd suddenly. Hawke called, "Water and a clean towel. Will that do?"

"Thank you, Hawke."

A stranger's voice said, "We should move the body, and get on to the next match..." A startled gasp and a chuckle from Thali came before the voice continued a bit breathlessly. "Of course we will allow the honored Warden a moment... er, time to recover."

"Right," came from Hawke dryly as they worked carefully on me.

"I've got what you need, Sparklefingers. The sand is rinsed out, can we lay you flat now? Your back looks a little twisted right now." There was no humor in Sigrun's voice.

"Yes," I said, feeling a little lightheaded as I was carefully rolled over and out of the twist. Then I was leering up at Hawke. "That armor is very becoming on you. If I was on you, I'd be com..."

Dera looked like she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time when she interrupted me. "That line belongs at the Hanged Man, and in its honor I have something for you to drink."

Carefully dribbling the restoring potion into my mouth, I felt much better and she propped me up. I finished healing myself, and Hawke half-supported me back to the break room. There I noticed the way she was hunched, and insisted that she get healed properly before I checked the dwarves as well.

Thali said, "Might be a good idea if you act a bit more injured when we exit. This last is a bigger group, and the nug-lickers will be counting on our exhaustion to be setting in."

"You looked like a bloody ragdoll, Sparklefingers. We're allowed a few more minutes for repairing armor and we're going to milk that. And you are going to finish every drop of these potions too." Sigrun's grin was getting cheerful again as she brought out a rack of vials.

"Leave the blood. Some houses are quick to forget how deep Wardens' veins go. You bunch are enough to tire me out." Thali sounded a little disgruntled. "The game may be up about Hawke, too. The mob will be expecting for her to be slower and weaker now."

That only made Hawke snicker. "The Qunari and Templars were both much longer battles, without a resting area."

Sigrun got an almost demonic look on her face. "Maybe I should have issued you a set of armor, just for the last match..."

The dwarven warrior barked a laugh. "Do you think you could have kept those fittings secret within the merchants?"

"Maybe not," this Warden Commander admitted regretfully.

I looked at Hawke and she shrugged at me. We made some repairs to our armor while Sigrun 'stalled' for a time. The enchantments should hold, even so.

More lyrium and exhaustion had been a problem when we fought our way to Merideth after fighting through the city and the Gallows. Hawke may not have completely liked the styling of the armor she'd been gifted with, but it was powerfully runed, far better than what she'd worn while we'd been traveling with Merrill last autumn.

The fifth match was called far more sooner than I really wanted. Maybe I was hoping the other group would lose their nerve, but they hadn't. So far our opponents were either more wary of Sigrun and Thali, or they thought Hawke and I were the weaker links.

Sigrun moved over to the door to the arena quickly, but I pulled Hawke close. I couldn't be sure if her calm heartbeat was a good or bad thing before the match. I could feel that our armor in places was beginning to stiffen as the blood dried, but we followed the dwarves out onto the Proving grounds.

This last time we had a count of six opponents, which I had known, but I hadn't expect that one was a mage.

She was an unfriendly looking fellow apostate by her expensive Tevinter styled robes. They weren't actually made in Tevinter, that was clear once you'd seen some full Magisters like Darius, but they were made in other countries by the foolish. Once I'd been gifted a set of smuggled robes in Amaranthine, so the difference was obvious. The rest were all still dwarves, but the mage made it a whole new contest.

"Stone and Paragons," Thali muttered. "Piotin fought in Denerim and is a cousin to King Bhelan, but I hadn't expected him to _hire_ an outsider for this. He hates to lose, and holds the record for beheadings with that axe; He loves it more than his fourth wife."

"We fought Baizyl earlier in another group," Sigrun added crossly.

When the Proving Master started the match with his list of warnings, the other group didn't even bother with threats as they spread out. We didn't spread out as much, as my spells worked better when we stayed closer together.

This group had much better knowledge of how to deal with a mage. I hoped I was the more experienced, but then again I had been caught every time. Where did all the apostates come from, and why didn't either Hawke or I hear of it? Magisters weren't that inconspicuous. It didn't look like she had ever been caught. _Was there a hidden city somewhere?_

The Proving Master moved back and out of the central space of the grounds before calling the beginning of the match. The dwarves came straight for me.

I didn't know if the other mage recognized or knew me. I didn't know her, but I did know her paralysis spell even if I managed to shake it off. My defenses went up as Hawke disappeared.

Thali shouted and rattled his shield with his blade as did the one of our opponents. _Berserkers, blast! _ Oghren was the last I'd seen in combat, and now here were two.

Sigrun appeared beside and tripped one of the warriors charging me, leaving only three for me to hold off. I dropped one of Hawke's tar grenades; magic these dwarves might resist, but tar slowed their physical attacks more than mine.

As my ice crystals exploded into an arc around me, Hawke appeared behind the mage with both daggers spraying blood around her.

But the enemy mage laughed and the blood swirled out around her like a whirlwind of bloody snowflakes. Hawke tumbled away from him like a child's ball.

We shouted as we jumped away from the tar slowed attackers. "Blood mage!"

Hawke knew this, but we didn't know how quickly Sigrun or Thali would catch it. How often did a blood mage get into a Proving?

_How often did a spirit mage?_

Casting an ice spray at the warriors, they would still be frozen in place or have to plow through the ice for the moments it lasted. We howled as her next spell pounded Hawke like a wine press; she bled all over as she tried to stand at first.

_No! We had too many on us._

Thali roared a challenge, and two of my attackers turned to help against him, leaving me only one. I threw more ice at him, and for once, one of the dwarves froze inside the ice.

That mage crushed my Hawke with force magic, spraying her blood in all directions. Hawke gathered herself and lurched away enough to drink a potion while some of her blood swirled through the air to flow toward the blood mage, who grinned with carmine teeth.

I used a spell I was usually reluctant to use against living opponents, one that felt dark like blood magic, even if it didn't draw from any blood. A spell that made an enemy swell up like a rotting corpse in the heat of summer and then explode, infecting those around it. I hadn't liked the elf's comments after I'd used it, that the Magisters used the spell as a sick game with the lives of their slaves. The comparisons to blood magic were also disturbing as well, even if the worst thing for me was how ill Hawke was after. It was tricky to try to make sure it did not explode with any ally close enough to be at risk.

I used it here in the blood mage, because this was not a life and death match where Templars or darkspawn required the greatest force. Not on any fellow apostate for the entertainment of others. This only reconfirmed my distrust of blood mages as a group.

I used that dark spell on a darker mage, remembering the mage at the Rose who nearly caused Hawke to slice her own throat open. I could only hope this blood mage didn't have those magics that ripped the heart out of the victims, without any physical damage that validated the horror for the shaken victims.

Hawke threw a grenade down and a smoky cloud billowed around her as I focused on healing to prevent her using our blood to make herself stronger. Spreading healing to our group prevented their being infected as well.

As I shifted to send another healing wave out, my spell must have ended without killing her.

The blood mage looked angry this time at spoke at me. "No, no, no, little spirit, your pet wardens will lose like the little vermin they are." Her skin was beginning to crack and show the corrupted energy of the Fade inside as the blood storm around her swirled up faster around her.

Her aura hung over the arena like a storm about to break. She began another spell, but I had to reduce her effectiveness.

_**HE is pride and must be removed before he feasts from the blood of all the watchers too! **_

_No, focus yourself, void take it!_ I had to heal Hawke, as she seemed to hang in midair for endless seconds, about to be slammed down again.

My heart was forgetting how to beat.

_**NO! Hawke lives, but not for long if we do not attack. We cannot only react to the battle now.**_

Again I reached past his rage at the other mage, into the cramped places I once was at the Vigil and called a blizzard. The spell seemed endless, taking so much longer than another death cry I heard off to the side. The wind and cold filled more than just the arena floor, leaving only the abomination and the dwarven lord, both partly blinded by the storm.

Hawke landed and rolled to her feet, staggering forward. She pulled two fresh daggers as her others were gone. Blood steaming in the cold, she staggered forward and disappeared again as I sent a simple blast from my staff, waiting for a clear view as I did another healing.

The haze of blood swirled around the blood mage when the blizzard cleared, but Hawke stabbed her in a rapid sequence, finishing with the Qun one in her eye. The blood droplets fell safely to the ground, so she was dead.

From behind me I heard Sigrun and Thali exchange quips, that meant the lord must have been defeated. I wanted to say something clever, but I was distracted because I realized that I was less exhausted from the blizzard than the last time.

This time I was still on my feet and conscious, a vast improvement.

Hawke stiffened, and started to back away as I noticed the noise from the audience. Sigrun made a smart comment about our victory and the crowd roared, but...

"No! We're not done!" I shouted with Justice's surety.

The body of the mage rose into the air, with her neck hanging where one of Hawke's cuts had almost severed through the larynx and spine. The glow of the demon came out and transformed the corpse, the flesh melting in arcane fire.

My stomach churned, as I'd never seen this initial transformation when an abomination died with my own eyes.

Her flesh flowed like molten iron, taking a new shape. It wasn't the shape of a wild creature like Velanna had taken. It was a demon's concept of a Magister with a flood of Fade-energy from the death of the mage and all the power and skill of the living abomination.

It glowed with its fresh blast of Fade energy, make me fell horrified as well as feeling a trace of that energy. That Fade ebb made me feel more tired and shaken.

_Maker, this is what Dera feared when I died..._

_**I am not a demon! **_

_We can argue later!_ "Arcane Horror!" I called as I cast a fireball to burn up any blood still usable.

She started with a crushing cage of force on Hawke while I tried the same on her. Hers worked, and I dispelled her spell with Hawke already crouched small.

Sigrun and Thali were shoved far back, enough that they tumbled over and through scattered weapons on the grounds.

The next spells I cast didn't affect her. They were often all or nothing which was why I preferred my elemental magics. Her next didn't affect us directly, as it pulled from the dying dwarves, and sucked their spirits loose along with that last bits of blood from the marrows of her once allies. I could feel their loosened spirits flee their new corpses. No chance at revival now.

My next spells burned and froze a little, but none of us were accomplishing much. Her defenses kept Hawke away for a time. Sigrun and Thali were moving in close to the creature as well, even if they merely waited for her energy to run out.

I wasn't quite as confident that would happen. If it did and her shield dropped, she could not duck three ways at once.

A shout from above disturbed my concentration, and I realized where she was casting only staff blasts... at the watchers. She either wanted more blood magic reserves or wanted to draw others into the match to use as pawns.

But when I looked around, the bloody dwarven corpses were already struggling to their feet.

I shouted a warning, even as she cast the bomb spell on Thali and began attacking him, focusing lightning spells and burning his very blood. Not every body was raised, but enough had been. The corpses were still warm from living, and now they fought with huge gashes that no longer bled. The dwarven lord had part of his skull shorn off so that we could see his brain... but he still fought on.

The lesser undead were attacking all of us, but I put protection on Thali and healed him. If he died, while the magic was rotting him from within, we all could die. The smell of rotting meat filled the pit of the Proving grounds, though Thali was still moving.

Thali seemed a decent sort, not that the arcane horror could possibly care.

Hawke tried to kill the horror, between the demon attacking and healing herself with our blood. I'd blocked the spell animating on some of the dead warriors, but was running out of energy when Sigrun finished decapitating the horror.

Then it took so little time to put down the rest of the undead. They'd really been a distraction from the blood abomination.

There was no roar from the balconies and levels above us, but we could sort out the Proving after I had Hawke in my arms again. My fingers tracing her face, she still had a trickle of blood in a thread coming out her nose; I had enough left to let a wisp of healing fix that.

Hawke threw her arms around my neck, and our kiss was part relief and part the metal tang of the blood over both of us.

Her grin was not diminished by the shouts of excited and angry dwarves. "Well, my mage, that is flashy way to finish a Proving. The last one was much quieter."

Leaning down I told her, "Remember this is your last one, love."

I heard the shouting and swearing as I held Hawke, glad she was such a solid weight in my arms; the earthy tones of the foul language were long familiar to me from Oghren's special charm. One wanted to nullify the Proving result, but he was being scoffed by the others as we'd clearly disabled or killed them twice. It sounded like the debates and betting might take days to straighten out. Hawke was fine, and that was enough for me.

I looked up and saw Sigrun and Thali were embracing too, and I was happy for my old friend. I planned how I'd tease her as soon as I was done holding my rogue.

_- x -_

_A/N: Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	10. In Victory, Celebration!

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Orzammar, Warden Outpost**

**Dera:**

It was hours until the Proving Grounds were cleared of both injured and spectators. I couldn't quite like the way the dwarves were enjoying watching the bleeding of the others from the front rows. Some had been burnt or frozen too, and I worried that Anders had done the last.

Then again they could have left the grounds. Their exits were further away and well above the combat sands. Even by the end of the combat it seemed that half of the audience was still watching despite the danger. Some of the injured were bragging about their injuries, even as blood leaked through their expensive clothing.

I understood watching fighters; watching Carver and his friends practice sparring in Lothering was one of my few amusements after Father died. Sometimes I left the house to avoid Carver's complaints and Bethany's worried questions. I usually found cover close by in case there was a problem, but I just wanted quiet.

These fights weren't like sparring, though. And deaths were not just common, but expected and desired. Their expressions didn't carry bloodlust, the faces in the crowd screamed a cruel enjoyment of blood and brutal death even for the others standing next to them in the crowd. Bragging and mocking... if I was going to risk my life anymore it wouldn't be for bored people, but for _something real._

Even with the excited dwarves who gloated about winning or losing, the Proving Master and his people eventually escorted those not injured out of the grounds. That left almost a score still injured, not counting us.

But they were much worse off than we were. Anders was tired, but eked out enough healing from a potion to stabilize the bystanders as soon as we got him through the passage up to the seats. Soon healers from the Shaperate had the lightly wounded sent home, and the more severely hurt ready to be taken away.

One spoke to the Wardens in our group respectfully. "Do you need further assistance?"

Sigrun looked thoughtful as she watched over these events. "We'd appreciate some extra lyrium for our healer. Shouldn't be one of the victors' job to pull these idiots' nuts out of the lava."

The other dwarf nodded. I hadn't said anything because I was mostly supporting Anders' weight. He was pale and swaying, but the promise of lyrium kept him intent on the conversation.

I couldn't be sure if it was Anders or Justice who was more interested. Then I realized that they hadn't overindulged in lyrium since we got back. Justice hadn't been threatening at all since the Ashes. He'd been quiet, aside from when he spoke to the Warden. Still, my mage was a heavy weight and I was tired too.

"Warden?" I asked him, nudging him along his side as I supported him. "Maybe I need to get you to rest, hmm?"

He sighed. "I am tired, at that, love."

When I looked at Sigrun and she nodded and waved us off. By the time we reached our quarters, Anders was more asleep than awake when a worried Paws knocked us over.

* * *

There were many objections to us being declared the winners of that Proving, for what seemed like forever. None sounded very plausible to me, but they were enough to slow it more than our last match with 'one' Warden. At the end, what finally tipped the scales was that if we lost, there would have been no one living to drink with. Sigrun said something about the deshyrs not liking the necromancy either. The storms of electricity and snow seemed to have fascinated some of the dwarves. Almost all had lived their entire lives underground and never yet faced an arcane horror, for all the genlocks, emissaries, and hurlocks they more often fought.

But Wardens, and Warden mages became very popular in Orzammar; warrior clan and smiths alike, despite there being only one mage. During most of the parties, I was just amused to be overlooked as the attention was on Sigrun, Anders, and even Thali, as a long veteran of Provings.

I enjoyed hearing more of what the others had done during the Proving, though some of it was boasting. Some of the drinks were very good stuff, imported from Nevarre and Tevinter of all places, making this a much bigger party than anything after the Qun.

A trio of the female dwarves in fine clothing giggled when they stumbled over to where Paws and I were watching most of the room sing a drinking song. Tomorrow I'd have to ask Anders where he'd learned such a long and difficult song to sing in tune.

"You should really dress nicer if you want to catch someone from that kalna, hunter." She spoke in that snide way that someone very drunk or very mean could, while the other two failed to stifle their snickers.

"I left my nice dress on the surface." I barely managed to stop myself from suggesting she run up and get it for me. Paws' head snapped up and I rubbed his ears for a moment.

"He is pretty for a deshyr. I think that armor makes him look even taller." This dwarf was sighing.

I couldn't argue about Anders' looks and smiled too.

The first dwarven woman, straightened and spoke in a determined voice. "He's got pretty vambraces, that's clear enough."

"So what?" The last one said in a slurred and grumpy voice. "None of the younger deshyrs have hired any new hunters for years. At least those in the Assembly, or their elders are."

"That duster is a deshyr now! And you can just bet that warrior will hunt her and get out of Dust Town." The first female was swigging from some flask and glared at the rest of us in this alcove.

Peering over at my mage while they spoke, he was showing off and playing with little bits of fire and ice. It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw a flash of blue in his eyes before he drank some more and pretended to direct the next song.

It still seemed new to me was that Anders could drink more. Not that he really got drunk that often, but it was a surprise when the Wardens threw us their own party and he was totally gone. He seemed happy, and I had trouble getting him back to our room when I was tipsy too.

He was a very affectionate drunk, so I wasn't expecting much from him tonight. He'd missed this for so many years so I didn't begrudge him for a little while, though I was just as happy not to guide him to the smelly privvies so he could start over.

Not that I planned to get any worse than I was now, and Paws was plainly guarding tomight. He'd been a bit angry when we'd returned to the outpost injured. Nothing could hover like a worried mabari.

With another look into the festive crowd, the second asked me, "Do you know diamondback?"

Well now, this might be more fun, and I always wondered how much Varric's boasting was a racial talent and how much was him. "Somewhat, but my mabari is better than the pretty Warden."

They disparaged their skills with as much sincerity as I was, so we called for some fresh cards from the bar; I did insist on modest betting limits. I wasn't about to blow much of any Proving profits, no matter how much I felt for duster women. We played for a while and gained some watchers. A youngster volunteered to move the cards for Paws, and there was some disbelief that I wasn't guiding his play. After a couple hands where I didn't play or even move and he did well our audience laughed at the losers. The first one threw in her cards and stalked away even as the piles of coins were moved over in front of Paws.

Paws' assistant was quite excited to be the center of attention, and another few players took their turns. I didn't clean up, and neither did Paws, but we didn't lose either. Eventually the air seemed to sound hollow and I realized that most had left the party. I thought Anders had gone to the privy, but he didn't come back.

I hurriedly bowed out of the game, and despite complaints about Paws leaving, I scooped our coins away. He was alert, and I brought out one of my more wicked looking blades. I really did not want to visit the privy here, their ale was not anything I wanted to smell before or after in close quarters.

When I started for the privy, Paws made a noise and stepped towards the door. Thanking the Maker, I wanted to get back to the outpost too. I hurried, and found at the Orzammar gate I was only a little behind Anders. The outpost entrance had a bleary eyed Ednund snickering at whatever he was reading.

"Anders been here long?" I asked, wondering what the leather bound tome contained.

When he snapped his book closed, he snorted with laughter still in his voice. "No, not long. He went through... 5..4..3..2.."

"Andraste's rusty frypan!" Anders' voice echoed down the silent hall, in almost a howl.

That was followed by a shriek which echoed as the screamer was coming this way.

Ednund was laughing so hard he fell off his chair and a couple of doors opened and shut again with grumbling. The female dwarf I'd been gambling with earlier came running out with her fine clothing in her arms.

I really couldn't help it. I laughed too.

When she saw me, with my blade more visible than it was earlier, she squawked and a cloud of ale fumes caught up with her.

"I guess your dress didn't help all that much, did it?" Really, I wasn't trying to be scary, but she was unnerved and ran out past me. I looked at Ednund, and while I was technically junior to him, I didn't care that much. "You do know that he's been a Warden longer than Sigrun?"

"So? It was funny and it's not my job to protect his virtue. I made sure to check her for weapons. And the Commander's the one that told us all about the thaig with all the broodmothers, and his exploits at the Vigil."

My smile had faded at some point before he finished. "Don't let strangers in again for us unless we ask. He's been on a hair trigger for half your life, and she could have been the King's daughter for all you knew."

_Had I ever been this young?_

I hurried to our room and found Anders cursing as he remade the bed with new sheets. "Next time come and play cards."

His eyes bleary, he protested, "I didn't do it."

I helped him finish. "I know. She and her friends were talking about you Wardens, but I kind of thought the Surface and being a human would prevent that."

Anders relaxed a little. "Her expectations were a lot more than I wanted to deal with right now with all I drank tonight. She had some idea that I would raise her prestige."

I was grinning again. "Yes, that's pretty standard for any nobility. She would get that as soon as she got preg..." I could feel my face drain, but I forced myself to finish. "...pregnant. That wouldn't work if she tried to seduce Sigrun."

He moved closer and reached out to hold me close before a hesitant kiss. "I just wanted to get to bed and dream of my love until she got back. Justice has been very firm in reminding me that I had too much."

"Maybe you should take Paws with you to defend your honor?" I wondered.

"Magic does well too, love." Anders moved over to the bed and began to remove his armor and then helped with the rest of mine.

Over the next few days the hunter kept well away from us, and we were a little more careful about drinking.

The Warden should be happy with us, as some dwarves had decided that fighting demons and darkspawn was much more of a hearty challenge than just the perpetual battle against darkspawn. They weren't as happy at the idea of travel above ground, but Sigrun already knew how to deal with that. She though maybe a half-dozen might end up undergoing the Joining.

I wasn't sure how serious Thali was about Sigrun, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Anders and I certainly hadn't been any example of a speedy romance.

Within only a couple of weeks after the decision and parties, our winnings were trickling in but not the purse. Sigrun was taken to cursing even as more experienced Wardens tested the the potential recruits.

She had a look in her eyes when she dragged Anders off to resupply more of his equipment now that he looked like a Warden. A new tarp, blankets, camp gear, all piled in our arms like it was Satinalia, much of it with Warden markings. I demurred from some as it was pointless as only some needed replacement. Anders started to look frantic as the bulk began to weigh on him, until I later whispered I'd return any extra later that night. Before I told him that, he looked so dismayed when he found himself holding a new iron stewpot.

Going outside with Paws for hours wasn't enough, I needed wind and sunshine. I'd decided to practice with a bow outside. I wasn't anything close to Sebastian's speed and accuracy, but I was out of practice, not untrained. The last time I'd spent much time on this was before Ostagar. Anders found me outside one afternoon, a few bow shots beyond the human trade area. I felt younger and afraid, about to fight the 'spawn again at the end of the world.

"Love? Is something wrong?" Anders asked from a step or so behind.

Releasing the arrow, it was reasonably close to the mark, but nothing to brag about. I lowered my bow. The silence went on as I tried to figure out what to say. "Yes, no. I wish I knew, but it isn't being here or even those who seek to kill us."

Anders stepped up next to me, and slid his arms around my waist and held me close. We just stood there as the light faded quickly. Being held was doing more than the archery.

"I guess I'm remembering Ostagar and training there with Carver. I was so scared that the Darkspawn would kill Bethany and Mother. More and larger groups of spawn were sighted, and I had no idea how to keep them safe when the king called for volunteers. As we trained, me with bow," I gestured with mine, "I felt so guilty and worried they'd be attacked while I was away."

"You still do, don't you?" He asked quietly.

"Papa was a mage, an escaped apostate, probably from Kirkwall at that. He kept us all safe and together for so many years. I couldn't even manage five years, even if I was later called Champion. My only family left, she..." I couldn't say it. I sighed. "I don't make many vows or promises, too many decades lying. But it's broken..." _I promise, Papa._

"Your promise could not prevent the Darkspawn coming, love."

"I couldn't keep us together. Mother never really recovered from Carver and then Bethany. Sometimes I didn't see her for weeks in the same house. She'd occasionally try to get me married off, but she... it was clear she never really forgave me for living through my failures." Holding my bow seemed pointless and I let it fall to the ground.

Anders held me tightly, almost to pain. After a moment, he cleared his throat and said, "Some people never recover from their losses, love. That doesn't mean they're right. One Warden I knew was always a little unhinged when her sister wanted to stay among the darkspawn. Others blame any surviving Wardens when they've lost someone.

"I feared that when you lost Bethany. Very few keep in touch with their loved ones." He turned me to face him. "Didn't you see Carver in the Gauntlet?"

That could make me smile a little for a moment. "Yes, and I think we're okay. But I should have left Lothering before Ostagar, before the gates were closed."

Caressing the side of my face, Anders said firmly, "I doubt the wise and canny man I've heard in your stories would blame you, Dera. The Blight is worse than the Chantry, as much as it pains me to admit it."

His wryness made me snicker and I leaned against him.

I wished I felt this in my gut.

When natural light was gone, we went back inside for another quiet night.

I wasn't quite as amused then Sigrun dragged me into one of the sparring sessions as a potential recruit and set me on the opposite side of Anders. He knocked us down, but I took him with me and he got scolded for being distracted.

Still I was getting restless, we'd been here well over a month now. We did this for the money, as a tool to accomplish other things. We'd gotten much of the wager money and Sigrun was helping me with buying the smaller, valuable items to trade with in other cities, like carvings, gems and jewelry. I wondered if any were Varric's relatives, but I didn't ask.

I got another message from Bethany, unexpected as it was to hear from her twice in only a short time. So I settled to read it one morning while Anders was plotting book-theft from the Shaperate. If our share of the Proving was high enough, maybe we could order a few copied. Carrying them would be the next problem.

_Aldera,_

_I didn't expect to hear from you, Sister. I worried when I heard nothing of you for months. Fears of Qun or Chantry locking you away were not the best company for my other nightmares. The Sacred Urn? Don't joke about holy things like that, Sister. I know you have little faith, but don't mock it like this! I found Father's marker and cleaned it away one trip through Ferelden, and visit it every few years. Another house was built on the stonework that survived the Blight, and the family there seems so happy and normal. They really didn't know any names from when we lived there. They were surprised to learn a Grey Warden had lived there before. Yes, we should add Carver to the memorial, he never really left Lothering._

_Have you been gambling, too? I'm worried about you. Gamlen must have started like that. Please tell me you haven't started some kind of foolish fighting to protect a Warden. Dealing with horses seems so minor a skill. Paws did well. How is he? I know he will pass, and I like to think he will go to the Maker for his loyalty. He is wiser and kinder than many people I have met._

_Yes, I have noticed that emissaries and ogres also vary considerably in their threat. When I hear fears about abominations, I remember how much more dangerous they become when they die, and worry. Perhaps it is a good thing that I do not expect to leave enough of a corpse when I die to make one of those._

_We are pursuing darkspawn who are appearing near Ansburg. Rumor has it that many of the lost thaigs might be close to the older surface settlements. I much prefer serving closer to Ferelden or Kirkwall. We got, actually, I got, attacked by some dwarves. They might have been looking for you, Sister, since they weren't sure who they were looking for. They only had our name. I haven't really made any enemies aside from darkspawn who aren't in any condition to be a threat anymore._

_I hope this reaches you before you move on, Sister. Take care._

Bethany's letter was unexpected, and the tone in it seemed off. Maybe it was from the dwarven attack. I wondered if Anders would find it funny that we were in Orzammar, but Bethany was attacked by dwarves.

Anders returned to our room with another herbal and pack of minerals for him to study. Sometimes he tried to explain how the potions and magic did their healing, but the concepts I could understand, even if I couldn't feel them work the way he did. Sitting beside me, Anders pulled me close.

"I got this from my sister earlier." I handed him the message, my voice sounding a little flat even to me.

Reading it swiftly, Anders' laugh burst out. "Fighting, gambling, and bad jokes about Chantry dogma? No wonder I love you, Hawke. But yes, those are the kinds of things your family might worry over. The only thing she missed chiding you about was if you'd gone to any orgies. We need to have one, I think. Are you sure she's younger than you?"

I pointed back at the letter, and he read further. I knew when he reached the part that worried me, as his face lost its smile.

Dropping the letter, he looked at me bleakly. "I never thought that it would spill over on her, not in my worst imaginings." Pulling me closer, he tucked my head against his chest, maybe so he didn't have to look me in the eyes.

"What I don't understand, is why would hunters be searching for me in that direction," I asked while rubbing my cheek against him.

"They might have been hired by the Chantry. We have been to the Deep Roads, this is known if they want to capture us." Anders sounded doubtful. "No, no one really wants to go to the Deep Roads, even dwarves. Many of them don't even like sunshine. Wardens must go, but every return to the surface is so damn good. But then the Chantry might just put a large bounty on us, and those dwarfs have no idea where to look."

There was another possibility. "These might have been hired by Vael months ago, and heard a rumor of Bethany."

I felt his chin dip from a nod, and he said, "True, I'm sure they learned their error quickly enough."

He leaned us back and he explained the recipes he'd been studying. I was glad that he didn't mind if I fell asleep while he thought out loud. I simply enjoyed listening to him talk.

Moments later, a knock at the door woke me from Anders' herbal lecture. The dwarf in a rich and formal suit had a message in a creamy parchment, imported, with a ribboned seal. "Message for Warden Anders."

We looked at each other after the messenger left, and all I could comment was, "No return message and no assassin, that's promising."

He broke the seal, and read the message quickly, handing it to me to read. It was a formal command for an audience with King Behlen. I wasn't sure if I had the hang of how they marked time underground, so we took it to find Sigrun.

She was sitting back in a visitor hall with Thali, and was surprised to see us. "You two look all grim suddenly."

Anders handed her the message and she frowned when she read it, "Neither of us got one. He hasn't done anything about Wardens being here, other than granting us this new tunnel." Frowning, she added, "Your audience is now and in armor by the phrasing."

As we scrambled to finish donning the rest of our armor, Sigrun warned us, "The king is a canny one. I don't know how close he was to his cousin who died in the last match, but there were a few nasty rumors about how the wastrel prince somehow became king. Be careful what you might agree to."

The doors clanged shut behind us and I wished that I dared to hold Anders' hand. The guards filed out as well and I wondered if the slits were full of archers as in some histories.

Anders looked at me for an instant,before he spoke towards the king. "Ser."

I had to smile as that was the best honorific he'd offer, unearned.

The dwarf looked up, and his smile was wintery. "Champion of Kirkwall, Scourge of Kirkwall..." His tone was not welcoming, but more weighted with guile.

Bowing a little, I had little reason to deny it. I was wearing my armor. I wasn't sure I would have survived that last match without it. "Not of Kirkwall, your Majesty."

Standing, he looked at us consideringly. "That doesn't change now, that's where it was. It's usually generations between Champions who are not winners of the Grand Tourney. The Qun are a juggernaut on the surface, but you won a scattered and weak counterattack against them."

I looked at Anders and shrugged before asking, "What did you want to speak about, Ser?"

He ignored me and stated while looking at Anders, "Apostate and Grey Warden who healed the poorest dusters and yet destroyed a Chantry in a slaughter. Veteran of fighting talking spawn."

Anders asked this time, "Is this about your cousin's death?"

"No, no," the dwarven king said. "He loved his matches and died from a fight with a demon. If he could have challenged a demon to a Proving, he would have. He wanted an epic death, the idiot. His glory days were fighting in Denerim.

"You have been polite, for humans. But your Chantry would send a March against us, just to get at you. We might fight them off with them being spread thin of late, but that is still a risk I do not want to risk for two strangers." He looked each of us in the eyes and asked, "Why are you here?"

Anders smiled, no smirked, and said, "Warden business. Some decided I needed some... retraining to be a good little Warden."

"You have been here for weeks," the ruler observed. "The Warden-Commander has moved on weeks ago, and you remain here?"

"I'm a slow learner, even the Shapers have noticed..." Anders almost said with a leer.

Glaring at my mage, I said, "We're planning to move on soon, Ser. We don't want to make trouble here."

"You're the kind of humans who attract it. Attract dusters like that other mage, even if you look harmless. Finish your business and begone. I do not want my people to be the target of the next March as only overspill," he said, waving us out.

Outside, passing more guards, I said to Anders, "I think we've been evicted."

"I'm sure of it, though his pride says we don't have to hurry," Anders said with a smirk.

Another few days, and even Sigrun was losing her patience with the delayed payout. We'd finally gotten the last payouts from the betting, but the Proving Master was refusing to disburse the official prize money because of 'repair costs.'

Finally it was again the time for Sigrun's next visit to the arse. This time she took us, and just for giggles, we strapped the great Champion sword on me. I might not be able to swing it more than once on a good day, but it was more intimidating than my usual daggers. Thali was on a paying job somewhere, so Anders and I would have to do.

Sigrun spoke to him, we humans loomed, and he finally took us to an office and counted out the money.

When we stepped outside, a loud thud came from right behind me, of bodies hitting ground. The causeway to the Proving grounds was so open, I hadn't expected anything.

Spinning, I was knocked back and away from Anders, the swing of another's great sword blocked by the one strapped on mine for display.

"Keep the Hawke alive, not the other two..." came from behind me.

I'd rolled with the blow and when I sprang up I saw that Anders was flat on the ground with three dwarves literally holding him down with their weight. The one was lifting his head by the hair.

There was no good reason to do that.

I shouted, and ran through them, knocking them off Anders. His head would thump down, but they were too far away to stab his neck now. Sigrun was engaging the swordsman as Anders scrambled to his feet with a cut on his cheek.

It didn't take long until the last attacker was mine. But in that pause I realized that his clothing was subtly wrong: the armor made on the Surface and it didn't even fit right. "Wait..."

"Fine," Sigrun said, making sure the others were dead.

"Hawke," Anders asked with his worry evident.

"Let's start this easy," I snarled, hating myself.

Yes, I lied. I lied a lot. Necessity long had me in a choke hold. I lied to officials who protected their killer sons from justice. I lied to Templars all my life. I lied to my friends and family, to protect them. I lied to strangers to keep us hidden. I even lied to Anders, telling him I was fine, even if I was sure he knew better.

But this was the fourth time I lied to a dead man and those lies were burnt into my soul, "Your group isn't from here in Orzammar, where are you from?"

"I don't have to talk to a fucking human," he said, almost spitting as a grim Sigrun wrenched his arms as she tied him.

"Yes, you do." I said, putting the edge of one of my favorite daggers against this throat, enough to almost cut. He didn't use the words that dwarves like Sigrun from thaigs did. "**If** you want to live."

His snort of contempt grated for someone who wanted to survive. "Ha, your type plays fair, like you're special, a Champion everyone should bow down to. You're like any other rich and powerful bugger, but now the bounty is worth our time. And you don't have all your gang now, so your type won't get your hands actually dirty, won't kill a helpless prisoner, with your known pet Orlesian knight and Chantry brother."

Wiping sweat out of my eyes from the fight, I leaned closer. "Did you miss that I consort with apostates and kill Templars by the scores too? Companies of Qun and dead mages and Tevinters, dead in my wake? I look out for me, and you, fool, have caught my attention."

I shifted, leaning over him, despite the boulder of pain in my gut. Like that, I sliced his cheek and up to the side of his eye. It was a shallow cut, not enough to be fatal, but it bled nicely from his pounding heart.

His eye widened a little, seeing the blade that close, but he didn't move. His expression didn't change either.

I steeled myself from the rock in my stomach turning acid and forced a smile despite my dry lips when some of the blood sprayed. Baring my teeth into a fake smile, I laughed, "Now, maggot, where were you hired?"

He glared at me, not quite as mouthy with his own blood dripping.

I was glad Sigrun and Anders were not interfering, though I wished they didn't have to see this. His contempt dared me to harm him. Once, long ago, _She'd_ taught me that a threat undelivered on was a fatal weakness. I wasn't convincing him to talk, and if I'd had the faintest hope of the end of this, it guttered out.

With my other dagger, I stabbed him in the crotch. I didn't look to aim, holding eye contact with the dwarf, but it was that big blade I'd gotten from the Qun in trade.

He shrieked, like I supposed a little girl dwarf would.

"Where were you hired? I'll cut it off completely next so it can't be healed, and see if you can break glass with that little girl shriek," I supposed I said, but it didn't sound like my voice.

I hated myself far more than I hated him. I was using and killing his hope, and the great cavern of Orzammar grew dark to me.

"Kirkwall..." came in a dry voice that cracked.

"And who do you work for?" Was this my voice, this sing-song of teasing request?

This time his answer was a panting gasp, but there was no longer a pause in his reply of, "Carta..."

I questioned him a bit longer, the names here, the names there, the travel here and gather extra hands here from native Carta... And worst, this was some kind of major project, not the relative head-butting we'd had against the Carta with Aveline. Not avoiding me this time, they were to bring me back alive, or failing that, Bethany.

This wasn't about Anders or revenge for the Chantry at all.

The Carta thug didn't offer anything much more useful and...

I slit his throat, not moving back from the blood at all. This was what I was, a frozen husk, and I stood up again, looking at my hands shake.

Anders pulled me to him fiercely, running his fingers over my hair.

That felt good, but I was vanishing like the funnel in the water as it drained. It was almost gone now, but he wanted something.

"I... hate that..." My voice was high and soft, when nothing else was, and I couldn't worry enough that Anders wouldn't hear me if I was this quiet. _Maker, I hate seeing their eyes._ I'd killed hundreds but was an empty vessel, only a drain.

Then I cramped and bent as I dropped to my knees, retching. It looked dark as blood, my own life force leaping out of me. Rejecting someone who once believed, who once wanted so desperately wanted only to protect her family. Someone who'd promised her father as he was dying... But now I felt like I was going to vanish into the Void.

As my retching became dry heaves I started hearing what Anders was saying. The words were tired and strained like he'd been speaking for a while and his words gentle, even to such a brutal killer, a torturer, a failure... I wanted to throw up more, but there was nothing left.

My throat hurting and acid fresh to taste, I asked, "How can you even look at me? You're a healer and all I can do is bloody murder. I can't manage to do anything in any way good or creative. I can't even fucking have a baby, like the stupidest of bitches can. Nothing, nothing. Nothing to show and nothing I am. I failed him."

"Dera, shh. You're not nothing, love..." he spoke kindly again, but it was only noise.

I heard, but I was deep in a black place only for destruction. Of course the Wardens wanted that, why waste a good murderer?

Lifted up unexpectedly, I realized that I was crying. I clung to Anders, babbling about nothing very coherent, mostly farewells. Nothing I'd dreamed of doing or desperately wanted to so could happen now. I was only good at one thing, and that wasn't anything that healed or made the world better.

He carried me back to the warden outpost and tucked me in bed, sliding in beside me.

_All I could hear was a different voice echoing through my memory, straining to speak just one more time._

_Papa, I'm sorry. I tried so hard._

_- x -_

_A/N: Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	11. Parting the Stone

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Orzammar, Grey Warden Outpost**

**Anders:**

I wasn't very good at this. It was one of the spells I had trouble casting after Justice and I merged, even though it was one the simplest I had used on vermin at Kinloch . I remembered studying so many spells there and mastering the basics between my escapes. Now I remembered studying them, but the feel and currents still felt alien. They were locked inside or maybe outside that space I shared with Justice.

The principles of a sleep spell were simple enough, usually mastered before our Harrowings. It was more like yanking energy from the Fade and helping the target into sleep and whatever little dreams they had. I remembered casting that magic and a little burst of pride that it worked, but I had no great talent for entropy the way Merrill did. I hadn't often missed it since all my magic changed. I wanted my healing magics and my ice spells the most. The other spells I'd once used against broodmothers weren't really needed in Darktown.

Now I'd used it on Hawke twice, not an enemy. When I cast it on her, she fell into a sleep even with my novice bumbling.

Holding her still and sleeping form, I thanked the Maker that she'd stopped cutting herself. They weren't deep or directed. I couldn't be sure if she was fumbling through her pain and forgot she had the dagger, or this part of her was broken and lacked any of her skill. Either way, I carefully removed the dagger from her lax hands and put it away where it belonged.

Not wanting to wake Hawke, I looked around at the common room in the Warden outpost after I healed her. The few others were ignoring us, but Sigrun wasn't as far away, watching us.

"You need to find them. You should be safe here, but many exiled to the surface for ages joined the Carta. No one bothers to count rats in any surfacer kingdom, but there are a _lot_ of the dusters. The good thing for you is that they aren't usually ambitious. Find their boss, and your problem's over." Sigrun wasn't ignorant of the surface anymore.

Carefully, I pulled Aldera against me and held her close, feeling her steady heartbeat as she slept.

We needed that information she got from the Carta thug. Bethany's letter took on a darker meaning now. That the Carta thought little about taking on Wardens and my Champion spoke volumes that their intentions weren't to pat the Hawkes on the head and give them cookies. The attacks on Bethany had been at least a week or two ago, so I hoped a third wouldn't come right away.

We had to take to the road and avoid attention. I might as well get used to my uniform and keep the little braids.

But Hawke... Aldera. This was worse than the last time she questioned someone, months ago while Vael's army had been circling us. She came back to the room, bloody, when staying out while I hid several times. I'd thought she'd run into thugs, but I should have asked. Her mood had been dark and violent for days after those nights.

I had to wonder now what she'd done, what she'd forced herself to do. I was sure she hadn't done anything to anyone innocent.

Pretty sure.

_I remembered her questioning of a Templar who attacked when we were out after dark in one of the villages along the lake. I'd disliked the need to question that Templar then. Vengeance wanted to kill him immediately, showing me flashes of how the body would look when we were finished. The pools of blood and carved flesh in those images made me ill. What had made me ashamed was that I wanted to allow that... to allow him to do that, like a tiny seed kernel inside the horror._

_I stepped back, because Vengeance had surged forward from my indecision. Even as he did, he showed me visions of exactly how I could gain the most from the Templar's death. It was like a rotting tree was overhead and about to crash on me, and drag me down into some primal muck. I hadn't noticed then how like Blackmarsh it had appeared, but that hadn't lessened my sudden call on creation magic, maybe just to remind myself about who I was. Vengeance quieter, my knees were wobbly with how shaky I felt from fighting off his blood-lust. _

_While I had been distracted, Hawke and Merrill were questioning the Templar. Usually they shit their smalls at being captured by a mage. A little glowing, a little showy magic, and they talked about just about anything, praying loudly that their Maker would avenge them, that no demon could tempt them._

_I'd be disgusted by this point. Or maybe trying not to laugh. _

_But this Templar was just addled enough by lyrium or his own stupidity that he was unafraid of Merrill's magic. _

_Hawke stepped in, her face a cold mask. He broke sooner than the dwarf had just now. Hawke had been ill, but not like today._

Was this because the questioning had taken more, or had the Joining broken Hawke's will? Or worse yet, destroyed her hope?

Either way, I feared for her now.

While she slept, I washed the blood off. I wanted her to wake on her own, but I was so tempted to talk to her sooner. Reluctantly, I asked her mabari to guard her.

Sigrun was outside in the common area, waiting impatiently while sitting on the long bench for a table. She gestured toward the space beside her. "What's the problem with the Champion? That was a clean kill. They attacked and didn't belong here enough to make trouble and get away with that."

"She's never liked questioning prisoners, but I'm afraid she's changed..." I didn't want to think her Joining had made it so much worse.

"We all change, Anders. It's part of the package." Her voice wasn't merry or even comforting.

Realizing that I was staring at the ground, I looked up. "I don't know anyone who knew me before my Joining. Not that many more from before I merged with Justice. I can't tell when I stopped being the escapist. I don't want to lose her that way either. How human will we be, will she be before our Callings?"

That made her grin. "Gonna be a long time for me..."

I glared at her. "I met enough who were already losing their humanity, long before their Calling. Oh, their oaths were still to fight the darkspawn, but they thirsted for killing just as much as darkspawn do. Stroud was already ripe with it years ago. Any feeling for non-Wardens is gone by now."

A pause. "Do you really think that about the Warden, or even Alistair?"

Anger boiled up. I wanted to say that I did. I was still angry that they conscripted Hawke, but Justice did not allow my angry lie. I slammed my fist against the table and heard a crack.

She was more honed, more a noble, commanding through force of will more than even back at the Vigil. Her feelings for the other Warden were just as clear, and her unexpected fondness for us was a surprise. Few Wardens could sustain relationships, between attrition and changing posts. I'd always looked on them with a kind of envy.

I remembered that feeling, even though I had been close to Hawke one way or the other, for nearly as long.

"You should heal your hand, Sparklefingers. You might need it later." Sigrun was grinning again.

Feeling sheepish, I did. That didn't stop my worry about Dera's state of mind, and I finally found the words I'd sought since we'd been caught. "She's a Champion, Sigrun. She doesn't sink to the level of expectations and demands, but pulls people in her wake into making things better, even the greedy and mutual enemies. I will _never_ forgive Cousland if Hawke loses that because of the Joining. That will be a loss to Thedas more than any one Warden recruiting."

She looked surprised. "Your black robes, you cast yourself as villain, didn't you? Not a funeral, you wanted her to pull the city in her wake."

I could only nod. "Hawke as Viscount would have made Kirkwall much better, and maybe beyond."

"You forgot to tell her that script, Anders."

I had to smile a little. I wasn't that upset to be still alive and now free of Vengeance. "And she pulled me in her wake again, though still very angry at me."

She drummed her fingers. "The Warden listed you as being on leave after she returned to the Vigil. If you hadn't popped up in Kirkwall, you might have never been found. She can be a softie, but you really pushed that one."

It was a little hard to think of Attryne as a softie, but I had been out of touch.

I returned to our room and Hawke was still sleeping with Paws at her feet. Removing my coat, I slid beside her and pulled her close. Hawke didn't rouse, but she snuggled a trifle closer even as she began to wake.

Her eyes had lit in recognition and in a calmer affection that brought me joy. All I could say in a suddenly gruff voice was, "Love," before I kissed her. We must talk of her fears, but she wasn't a cold killer.

"That was a nice wake-up," she admitted, cuddling closer.

"Are you feeling better?"

Dera sighed and nodded, almost forcing me to the next thing. But this was a secret I hadn't had to promise to share. Undoing years of hiding things to protect her, would it ever grow easier?

With a little of my own fear I admitted, "I'm sorry I did that, Aldera. I didn't kno... I couldn't think of any other way to stop what you were doing to yourself."

I saw understanding, and sadness in her eyes. When she wiped her eyes, I let a whisper of healing free for her.

When she laid her hand along my cheek I leaned against it, closing my eyes for a second.

Hawke spoke very quietly. "Anders, I'm afraid of getting used to doing things like that, because it was cruel and horrible. Papa was very firm on that, especially when teaching Bethany about magic and ethics. He couldn't always teach her away from our home when the weather was terrible. With Carver's and my added questions, I guess the lessons became more than about the dangers of blood magic."

I could help but wonder how much Thedas would be different if lessons like this were shared.

"Sometimes in my dreams I can still hear his voice asking Bethany lesson questions, even if I can't hear what he's saying anymore. I can remember when Carver got in trouble for saying he _enjoyed_ beating up another boy who'd been rude to Bethany. Necessity and protecting my family, no matter what, was not to be something to be proud of or skill. Earlier today, I could hear his voice because I had..." She stopped.

"You had what, Hawke?" I had to press, more than I wanted to. "I hate to say this, but that is probably the first thing I had to face after my Joining. We had to do sometimes very ugly things when fighting darkspawn. Even the first thing when I could only watch when I saw my first death from the Joining itself only hours after fighting my first darkspawn."

Nothing I'd done, even as a spirit healer, made any difference. I could feel Dera's hug, but this wasn't yet what I wanted to say. So my voice got harsher because I didn't want to admit this.

"We did many things, things I could have never imagined before my Joining. We negotiated with a smart darkspawn, we slaughtered women whose only crime was to be captured by darkspawn and made into breeders... and we sealed Amaranthine and burnt it with people still trapped inside with the mass of darkspawn to die." The screams haunted my nights as much as the taint until I merged with Justice. "We face that necessity constantly and can't escape it the way other groups like the Chantry and Templars do by pretending what they do is right or just. The Warden wasn't the best fighter, wasn't the best negotiator, but she faced necessity without excusing that necessity as anything but ugly and regrettable."

Clutching Dera, I realized I was weeping. Her Joining was necessary if Cousland wanted to help us. All I could feel was regret.

She held me tightly too, and said wryly, "Now I feel a little selfish to break down over a kidnapper."

"No! That's not what I meant to say." I didn't want to belittle her upset. "Being upset means you aren't one of the uncaring bastards in every group, nobles and Templars, Chantry and Grey Wardens. Doing what needs to be done, unflinching and with as much compassion as you can..."

"I was not compassionate when I questioned that Carta thug! That was cruel and evil."

"Necessity, love. He and his are a threat to Bethany and we don't know how many others. He admitted that he was counting on rumor that he wouldn't have to spill. Your father trained you for how many years to protect the rest of your family? Would your father have questioned him?"

Hawke paused. "Maybe. I didn't see it happen, but we'd had little trouble for the years we lived in Lothering."

With a quick hug I allowed, "A little magic can go a long way most of the time, but I wonder what he must have done while Bethany was young."

A moment later, she kissed me. Reaching around her, I rubbed her back for a long moment, feeling much better about this.

Quietly, Hawke told me as we settled for sleep, "I'm sorry I got sick all over you earlier."

"It's not easy, love. I hope it never does." I fell asleep, hoping this helped.

Later our hunger drove us out for food, with Ser Mew perched on my shoulders again.

Hawke looked around at the other Wardens. "This settles it. We have to deal with the Carta and return to Kirkwall. I hope we can send a message to Bethany quickly, too. If this is about us being Hawkes, she deserves to know."

"Of course, love. Kirkwall, that beautiful city, just waiting to welcome us with open arms... and cells."

Hawke didn't more than smile at that. "It wasn't that welcoming the first time, was it? I was so desperate to provide for Mother and protect Bethany, right under the Templar's watch. Carver had died and we couldn't even stop to return him to the ashes. It felt like we left him behind, and I didn't have too many skills. Farming and surviving Ostagar wasn't enough to keep us together."

"The smugglers..." I knew bits of her time there, from stories told at the Hanged Man to the secret ways of moving through Kirkwall.

"It wasn't just smugglers, I needed skill to make up for my smaller blades. When I was still working for Athenril, this elven woman taught me some useful skills. Some skills I tried to forget as soon as the teacher moved on. I told myself that I didn't have to become a cold assassin, to become a creature for killing who uses torture and pain. I'd just be faster and give a quick death even to my enemies. I wasn't an assassin, really I was just a rogue who used the shadows."

I was too familiar with this kind of justification. "And you nearly convinced yourself."

Dera's smile was only faint. "It worked, usually. I avoided trouble when I could. I might steal a random secret or unneeded trinket. I mean, what good were all those torn pants in caves or Hightown mansions?"

That made me laugh, as we sometimes found the same kinds of oddities outside an elven camp as in an open mine pit, too.

She lost her smile. "The woman... the assassin Erdatien, had a look in her eyes. When she looked at you, she assessed you too for the five quickest ways to kill you. She said she only taught me because Athenril ordered her to. I wasn't a killer like her, I wasn't. I had family, and I made friends too. I wasn't just seeing people as meat tokens like her, that their deaths would happen in a way that make me a profit. But I'm just like her, how did she know?

"Even in King Bhelen's study, I knew where to stand and angle my attack and that I'd need a grenade to hide my location to get out of the shooting gallery alive. I even thought that for Dumae, worried his audience was a trap to force Bethany out. The dwarf wasn't a person either, only meat I had to make talk before I killed him. I used his pain to get information, still planning to kill him, without compassion, without mercy. He was only a thing and that means I'm only a thing of violence like _her_. I told myself for years that I wasn't a cold killer. I let people go. I encouraged others too. I didn't torture or give cruel, false hope. Dead or let go, but no tortuous wait."

"Necessity." I gripped her arm, but then pulled her close for a kiss, running my fingers through her looser hair. I needed to interrupt this line of thought. "Dera?"

"Hmm?" Dera was nicely distracted.

But distracting her was not really my purpose, I had to convince her no matter how many times it took. Leaning back, I looked into her eyes and couldn't help smiling. "At least I know how to get your attention, love. No, you're not an assassin. You kill." I kissed her, just a peck.

"You show mercy," I gave her another quick kiss. "Necessity drives us all at times, but it's not who you are, love. If you cannot find mercy for yourself, what hope can I have? Really, you were a champion well before that cess-pit even noticed, and you will always be my Champion."

Holding me close, she muttered into my neck, "I wish I could heal or make something more positive."

"What would you want to create, love?" I understood futility. I had endured that for most of my life. I didn't want Hawke trapped there.

Her silence seemed too long, but she was too tense to have fallen asleep. "I don't know, I just want something, anything that isn't blood and death."

"We can look, Dera. We do have some time." I met her wet eyes, feeling I was on the edge of tears too.

Neither of us mentioned what we both hoped for a month ago. It was still too fresh an injury.

After we silently held each other for a time, she spoke. "We'd better leave for Kirkwall... You'll look like a Warden, I suppose. Do Grey Wardens keep a loose woman on the road?"

I was very glad to hear humor in her voice, even if returning to the City of Chains made me very nervous.

"No." I grinned at her and smacked my lips. "We keep them in our quarters and we never come out. They always die with a smile on their faces."

"Oh, really?" Dera moved closer. "I feel remarkably healthy for a corpse."

Touching my forehead to hers before kissing her, I was glad the storm had passed. "I am a very, very good healer."

Hawke spent the evening freshening my hair dye to the darker brown again and re-braiding my longer braids. Sigrun sent a message to Bethany's outpost. Courier or pigeon didn't matter as we needed to give her time for travel too. I offered to write a note with the relevant Carta information for her commander. They would need convincing, as I doubted she had as much latitude as we did.

The next day we left for Kirkwall, and leaving a safe place wasn't as easy for me this time. I wasn't under pressure from Vengeance or even the Warden. I was used to running, not wanting to stay.

We had to travel quickly and I did not like to deal with my horse, who seemed to have decided he could ignore me since I hadn't visited. I didn't enjoy riding the beast all that much. I couldn't even blame it on Justice, because I'd had some spectacular failures in escapes due to the evil, nasty things.

Hawke had no problem, she'd grown up on a farm. Even Ser Mew liked having his basket strapped behind me, taking a perch on me or the basket while Paws trotted alongside us.

The spring sunshine and open road suited Hawke, even if she wore her plain armor with a bow out and her daggers hidden. She spoke with a terrible fake Orlesian accent when we were alone, but the further we got from the Warden post, the less she spoke. I spoke gruffly, when I had to.

Since we were quiet while we passed merchants and travelers on the way to Jader, I heard more of the rumors racing though Thedas. I wasn't happy to hear that Circles had been annulled, and Justice rumbled too. Cumberland was holding out, and it wasn't clear why the city was simply going about its business. Kirkwall was rebuilding, amidst rumors that some mages had stayed in the Gallows. News from father away was more patchy and contradictory.

What was clear even from rumors was that, despite fighting around many Circle Towers, the Chantry had not been able to annul and destroy mages freely as the Templars marched.

I was feeling good as the other Circles had not rolled over like Orsino did, regarding his charges. They did want more, but weren't running mad with their magic, like the Chantry taught about the Magisters.

The road we were on was heading north to Jader from the Imperial Highway. This road wasn't as broad and well made as the highway, but it was solid and well-traveled. Riding our horses, which I hoped we could leave behind, meant that we were overtaking walkers and caravans. Most were just traders carrying winter production out to other cities, but a larger one was moving slower.

Paws growled softly and moved closer as we closed, but I didn't see what bothered the dog. I didn't see many weapons, just traders, wearing rich clothing while their workers were tending the wagons and mules. They didn't seem to have anything bulky, but it was far too early for crops to begin shipping from what Hawke said earlier.

I wondered what happened to Sandal and his father after we saw him in the Gallows. I wasn't sure Orlais was the place for a rune-making savant. With how much the Warden and Hawke had made use of his services, I hoped his next mistress wouldn't be the Divine.

Hawke's horse was a little in the lead and I spurred my horse to catch up without thinking about it, my horse nearly barreling into hers before they both stopped.

A fire burst inside my mind and then my blood began to burn. I couldn't make myself move even as I started to become alarmed, rattling inside my flesh cage.

Hawke was frozen on her horse next to me and my flesh burnt from the inside and I couldn't move. She struggled to move, reaching for her daggers in a disjoint way.

_**Fiends!**_ My hand was reaching up for the great sword, my legs turning to slide down ever so slowly.

My mind sluggish, I understood what was happening, but I couldn't do anything about it. Even a worry about my life draining away was only a distant concern.

When I hit the ground, my knees buckled and my gaze was drawn unerringly to the richly dressed and smiling merchants. The drovers nearby weren't acting. They had turned their faces away.

When I grasped Celebrant, I felt a little stronger. Despite Justice's shouts ringing in my head, we were weakening rapidly from blood loss as well as his actions. One shaky step as another wave of fire swept through my flesh and I swung the sword in the direction of the nearest merchant, silently.

She tried to block us with a staff, but Justice _was_ fiery wrath and knocked the stick aside, just missing her head. My head cleared a little and I was able to identify the spell, even if I could feel Justice's anger that he could not do more than attack with the sword.

Justice swung the blade in a great arc to attack the false merchant again.

"Hold, warrior! Or you will lose your partner." A male voice was followed by Hawke's cry.

Paralyzed by my internal battle, my blade landed in the ground awkwardly with Justice pushed aside and still angry. My momentum turned me to my side and I could see the dagger in her throat as blood spun out around us.

I desperately wanted to keep control so I could heal her, but we had weakened enough that Justice seized control from me.

"_**You deserve justice if you grant no mercy."**_ He had lifted the blade again and swung it low before looping it up and into the mage in a smite.

That took everything out of us and I collapsed to my knees as I heard cries from both merchants.

But now I heard Hawke's shout as she moved about in a rush. Another burn began in my blood, but stopped, before I felt her gripping my shoulders.

"A... Warden?" Her voice was worried, and I finally could see that she was bleeding freely from her exertions.

I had trouble lifting my hands to touch her and knew I could not heal her just now. "Drink a potion, love."

She fed me one as well, and strength and energy flowed back into me. The silence of the caravan made me turn to make sure no one was about to attack.

They just looked at us, some with their eyes watering. One dwarf had been a turncoat and fled, but the rest were eager to tell us what happened to them and what had been planned for them. None had been looking forward to a journey to Tevinter, and an elf said that Tevinter had been kidnapping new slaves almost openly anywhere away from noble strongholds ever since Kirkwall.

That burst my pride in what we had accomplished and I looked at Hawke. No single force was enough to deal with slavers on larger drives than this. Tevinter might again swallow up chunks of Thedas.

Her smile was a little forced. "Well, I can kill Magisters. I'm good at that."

_- x -_

_A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	12. Old Stomping Grounds

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Orzammar, Grey Warden Outpost **

**Hawke:**

As much as I liked Sigrun, I was very glad to be leaving the outpost. I'd grown up with legends of the Wardens, and like every child I pretended to ride griffins and kill monsters. I was still a teen when the first rumors of darkspawn reached Lothering just before Papa died. Darkspawn were much scarier then and I'd never even seen any Wardens.

I knew a lot more about them when I left for Kirkwall. I knew about their danger, I'd fought many darkspawn since Ostagar too. The nightmares, the Deep Roads, the preternatural sense, and the Joining as a last ditch hope to cure the Blight: becoming a Warden wasn't as exciting or glamorous as a little girl thought. Since then, I learned more of the costs that none of them admitted to outsiders.

There was little glamor so far.

Still, I was ahead in experience over new wardens like Ednund, Tharlin, and even dwarves who joined after our Proving, like Brosca. I don't know what they thought about the Warden secrets.

Now I was leaving the Wardens. Other Wardens. I couldn't quite believe that I was a Grey Warden. Even as it happened to me, all I could think about was why it made sense, and worrying about Anders.

Sigrun and some of the others saw us off, this parting much better than the others after Kirkwall. "It's a good thing you're going. You aren't as much a skinnybutt, Sparklefingers." She followed that with a pinch which made Anders almost yelp.

He glared into her grin though, with a bit of Justice's annoyance.

Ednund completely stopped being an arse after my Joining, and almost came along too. But Anders didn't want any company, and exercised seniority, glares, and snarky comments to get his way.

I figured we'd be meeting Bethany, and figure out our next step there.

Jader was the closest port town, and there was a steady traffic from Orzammar, possibly more than to Ferelden or the old Dalelands and Orlais. So we weren't quite as alone as Anders would like.

We started using Brana and Heysal's names again. Anders got the attention of one family of travelers, and if his parents would have allowed it, the boy would have run off for a Joining right then.

Finding the Warden contact in Jader wasn't hard, it was one of the assistants to the portmaster. She found us a ship, a regular merchant that set sail tomorrow afternoon. The price would be good, too, as the first officer said the captain often sailed with Wardens and thought us good luck against pirates.

Well, maybe that was true. We had no problem with pirates last time, even if the crew did. Maybe two Wardens was luckier than one.

When I got a good look at the _Bell of Avernus,_ it was sort of middling size, but it had lots of sails. Not that I knew much about ships, but it looked fast to me. The crew was loading supplies, mostly barrels and some crates when the First took us to meet the Captain. We'd have a closet of our own to sleep on two fold-down benches that touched each other. It was better than bunks and hammocks even if our pets made things extra crowded.

At least we wouldn't have to hide this time.

We had to find a room at one of the inns in Jader and turn our horses in for other Wardens to use. I had grown attached to mine already, and Anders pretended he minded leaving his behind. I kept an eye on Anders.

This was the largest human crowd he'd been near since Sebastian's attack. There were many more soldiers patrolling and stationed about. Most were sworn to Ferelden, wearing uniforms similar to those I'd served under at Ostagar. I hadn't served long enough to be issued a uniform.

It was funny when just about everyone preferred to speak with the Warden and ignored me.

It wasn't as funny when a couple of Templars in red skirts hailed Anders.

"Warden! We'd like a word with you." These two had the usual huge blades of slower warriors.

Fenris was faster than most with big blades, but I was faster than him. While we could take these two, easily, we had no reason that would not attract too much attention.

"Andraste's knickerweasels. Take any word if you wish, I have plenty of them to spare." His voice sounded pleasant, with very little strain.

"We seek the apostate known as the Scourge who killed over two hundred of the Maker's beloved in the Kirkwall Chantry. Who are you and where are you bound?" He wore his helm even out in crowded streets, and it was oh, so easy to see he had abused a lot of lyrium, by the bright blue haze over his eyes.

The other's was bright too, but I could hear a guard patrol coming this way. That didn't say they'd be allies, but...

Anders slowly lost his smile. "I am a Grey Warden on assignment, I have no interest in drawing my sword just to prove I can kill you with it. Under treaty, you do not have the authority to interfere with that without something more definite than a resemblance to a mage."

The other Templar laughed, his voice heavy with an Orlesian accent. "The Knight-Vigilent says we will no longer answer to old women when our charge is to keep Thedas safe from mages and abominations. You _will_ answer our questions."

Other watchers began to move closer to listen or move away from a possible fight.

But this was Ferelden, if barely, and Orlais began further west across the border gate. I wanted to smack him. "You are no longer in Orlais. Here people owe respect to the Queen and the Grand Cleric." _And __not__ you, I implied._

"The Hero of Ferelden for some of us..." Anders added with a smug smile, though he had a glint in his eye too.

A few murmurs came from the people remaining on the street. A squad in uniform halted outside the immediate area, and seemed to be waiting like some onlookers.

I wasn't going to start a fight, but I was damned good at finishing them.

"That heretic approves of mages and lets them run free to kill. We will not... for the Maker!" He didn't draw, but punched me.

I'd been expecting him to draw a sword and didn't dodge fast enough. The other one shouted a second later and the waves of their smites rolled over us. Some of the others felt it too by the cries. I was dizzied for a moment and rolled away even as I drew my blades. I heard others being drawn. All around me.

My head clearing, I moved to attack. They might have seen something and wanted a fight, thinking a smite would be enough. My blades slid into the lungs and throat of my attacker even as he attacked where I'd been.

The other was blocked by Anders, still looking like himself as he swung the blade. He was too late and weak to do more than parry, but that bought enough time for me to stab back at the Templar. It wasn't as well aimed, it would take hours to die, but Anders swung again before his blade tip hit the ground.

"You okay, Heysal?" I took an awkward step as I looked for more Templars.

"So that's what a smite feels like, Brana." His sarcasm was a little thin and eyes showed whites as his knees wobbled.

He solved that by pulling me close for an embrace. That close I could see that Justice was awake.

The guard spoke to me, spoke to Anders as Warden Heysal, and spoke to the witnesses. A public street wasn't the best place to confront a Grey Warden in Ferelden. The second one might survive, but Anders did not even mention bandaging him.

We were told of a decent inn to wash off and get a room. There we heard more about the stream of Templars from Orlais who kept trying to enter the port a few at a time. That was why there were far more of the guard.

So far they only found a older midwife with only a little healing who screeched like a haunt and hit them with her bag of medicines. Turned out a dozen people in the market had been delivered by her over the years... and. Well, those foreign Templars were delivered from the market to the Chantry in diapers. They had to apologize to get their armor back, but the Reverend Mother wasn't too sympathetic as the midwife lived in the Chantry and was quite devout.

Anders laughed at that story.

We didn't laugh at the story that Oswick's tower was annulled and Solas had fallen to Imperial troops. Nevarra might be considered decadent here but it was an unwilling battleground too close to both the Imperium and Qun. I didn't know how even downtrodden elves could prefer either group like some had in Kirkwall,

Other rumors weren't as definite. I suspected it would be months until we could even get a good picture where things needed a little help.

There wasn't really anyone to help in Oswick, now. We were quiet when we went to bed, and only held each other for a while before I slept with Anders smoothing my hair.

We presented ourselves at the ship at mid-day. We'd bought new and old Ferelden clothing in the market to replace bits we'd been wearing out. One was a short dress Anders liked, even if not as short as Isabela's.

Unlike last time, this trip on the _Bell of Avernus_, was uneventful aside from a few nightmares about darkspawn attacking in Lothering one breezy fall day, and I had to keep my family away from the taint. I didn't really want to have to conduct a Joining and I felt like I'd forgotten the words until I started. Then it was too easy. And too painful.

I woke just as an elf candidate collapsed from that vile cup in my dream, with Anders holding me close to muffle my noises.

Too soon we were watching as the ship passed through the stone cliffs and under the blank eyes of the slave statues. I shivered in my dress as Anders held me close, a slight disguise for my return. I hated those statues as symbols, not unalloyed with wariness at how much punch the ones in the Gallows had in a fight. Then the Gallows came into full view, and it looked unchanged from here. I wondered what happened to the statues we fought.

Kirkwall hadn't really changed, especially seen from the lower parts of the city. I could look up and see where the Chantry building no longer towered, but the rest of the city was stone; buildings and streets had been literally carved out of the rock. They were solid enough to stand up to many slave uprisings. The destruction of that one building wasn't only the physical.

But how much was it still dominating people's minds? Cut off the top section of a fir tree, and the tree keeps growing. I wanted that tree to be Kirkwall, not Tevinter nor the Chantry, as rabid in an opposite way.

The first thing I noticed as we watched the docking, was that the only guard at the docks wore the long familiar armor of the City Watch. What was less familiar was that the guard had a neckerchief like Aveline's.

Both afraid and hopeful that it could be her, I looked closer, and it was an unfamiliar and bearded face. I tugged Anders' arm and pointed the guard without raising my arm.

He nodded and I saw the same curiosity on his face.

I was still getting used to seeing him like this, in Grey Warden armor. There was a difference in the way he carried himself, even with the grumbles. I teased him about my being some nameless minion with blades, but the signs of the man and leader he might have been if he hadn't been 'raised' by the Circle, were obvious now to me. He wasn't comfortable, but I'd always been the more public of the two of us.

Ser Mew was peeking out of the basket, objecting to our leaving. He'd enjoyed the freedom on the ship, a regular in ferrying Wardens across the Waking Sea. This time we weren't planning to go near Hightown; the warden outpost was in Lowtown, not that far from Gamlen's hovel.

We arrived at this safe house, and the Warden was a stranger to us, but he couldn't question we had business there. We were assigned a closet to use, and Anders set to do some bandaging for any here.

I went outside with Paws while he was busy, and we wandered towards the Alienage. I wondered who was now in Merrill's home.

Thrown into a wall and held up with an arm across my neck, my head was spinning when I heard a snarling and familiar voice. "What are you doing here, fool?"

I knew the voice, and despite ringing ears and head, I had to smile. "Good to see you too, Aveline. Would you believe the Carta here are behind it?"

Letting me down, she looked around to say, "You shouldn't be here, Hawke. Too many still want to think you did it yourself, despite any evidence."

Not having anywhere else to go for privacy, I said, "Let's talk then, as long as Gamlen's still solvent."

Aveline snorted. "He still lives here."

I got lucky, he must have been at the Rose or somewhere else. The lock was still cheap, and it took only a second to pop it open. His cleanliness hadn't improved either, but there was that hammer I'd found hanging on the wall. Aveline ignored my lack of a key, as usual.

"Someone here in Kirkwall wants Bethany and me dead, Captain. Or at least captured. Not because of... here, but Carta gangs found us in the Grey Warden keep in Ansburg, and in Orzammar. They weren't interested in... the mage at all." I didn't want to say his name out loud, anywhere in this city.

My friend frowned at the mention of the Carta. "We have not had much problem with them lately. Are you sure?"

Remembering the wreck of a dwarf, babbling answers before I finished him, I felt everything drain out of me. I sat on the floor before I could fall. "Very sure."

"Hawke," Aveline's voice showed the concern that her face didn't. "What have you been doing these months?"

I giggled.

And then I couldn't stop.

That made her drop to kneel beside me, "Aldera, what happened? Is... Was Anders killed?"

I was pulled into a rough hug against her armor and finally stopped giggling. It echoed oddly against the metal.

"No," I managed to say. "He's fine, with Grey Wardens right now. Many things happened, including Vael and a company of mercenaries. I even met the Hero of Ferelden at the edge of a blade. But this is new, and not related to those other things."

Promises, I wondered if I should hold to them. Then I wondered if I could. "And you always thought I should get into politics, have a keeper, be under orders or something. I got all that now, even if I'm not supposed to talk about it..."

I had to laugh again. Me under orders, it was a joke.

Shaken by the shoulders, I met Aveline's eyes and nearly blurted it out. I clamped my mouth together to prevent spilling.

Her face shifting, she got what I'd avoided saying directly. "So the Carta came after you, even while the mage is back under Grey Warden oversight. Bethany a distance away. Carta coming from _my_ city."

"I'd vote for you to be Viscount. You and Vael were pushing, but really..."

Hah, I got her to flush about something other than Donnic. But it was still a truth that this city needed a stronger leader.

"We had to return and investigate despite the risk, Aveline. Why do they want to capture us, when there are much easier targets? I didn't know you were here, but it's not a crime here that you could investigate. I hoped Varric returned." I said, knowing how thin a lead that was.

She smiled grimly at that. "Varric's here and the Chantry is sure he knows more than he tells, even if his tales confuse them. He still has his old rooms, but I think he finally owns a piece of that inn."

"Well then, he'll have the good stuff in his rooms again. How are you and Donnic?" I asked, and we chatted about more surface news: Isabela's ship, Merrill's clan, and Sebastian's plans. She told me that Fenris had returned as well but she didn't see him very often.

"You're not hiding all that well, Hawke," was Aveline's last warning before she left me there. The rank signs on her armor were worn, but she'd gotten restless the longer we'd talked and her duty was calling again.

I had to hope few really knew what I looked like, with only that stupid statue or my Champion armor to remind them. I hadn't worn any skirts in public since Mother's funeral, as rarely as I'd worn them before. The docks statue had the plate with my name removed and some random chips in it when we passed it on the docks.

Aveline's name had been painted on. That was fine with me. It kind of reminded me of her anyways.

I searched for a fabric merchant still open in Lowtown, and paid a bit of our hard-earned gold, to commission a series of neckerchiefs for the statue. She was the one most dedicated to the city itself. It had been home for a long time, but I helped people, not stone and laws.

When I returned to the Warden base, Anders was sitting just inside the entrance. His eyes lit up when I entered.

Stepping next to him, I bent down to say, "I was fine, just ran into the Guard Captain and we talked in Gamlen's palatial home. I even left a tip for the service when I left."

Pulling me down to sit beside him, Anders was startled. "She came back? No, of course she did. Why am I even surprised?"

"Because I was afraid she'd get hurt because of my decisions?" I sighed. Of course most of the people we'd ever helped were here too. "She told me Varric still has that suite, you want to go and see him, Warden?"

_- x -_

Anders:

After these months away, Kirkwall felt so strange now. I'd never voluntarily returned to some place that I'd left with full intention of it being permanent before.

Hawke kept us to the darker ways from the docks, some of which I knew, and some where she'd paused before choosing the path we took. Hawke was in simple and almost tawdry clothing with her hair flowing down her front, while I was in my Warden armor, as we made our way to Lowtown and the Warden's house.

Bethany had still been in Ansburg when she'd sent her message to us about her attack. Whatever this was, it started with Carta here. We needed news and this was our best idea: finding Varric.

Varric was so angry at Justice and me that he gave the elf approval for our deaths. I fingered the seam where my scar had long healed away completely. While my body may not remember the scar, I did. It had not been a fair fight, but then how many were? Hawke, at least, had been held a bit more safely even if she didn't accept that and talked them into only a parting of the ways. But now we were back, like a bad coin, looking for help.

Which was truer, the friendship or the betrayal? Could I say? Did I have the right to say?

We left the Warden house after dark, heading for the _Hanged Man_, with Hawke hanging on me on the street and our pets left behind. There, I crossed the main room and climbed the stairs at a quicker pace than my usual stroll. I looked different enough in blue and silverite armor, with died and braided hair like any stubborn Fereldan Warden. Norah and a few other familiar faces were still there, but we ignored them. The ale here was no reason to stop either.

I led Hawke, but slowed on looking in through the open doorway. The streets had changed, the Templars no longer visible, the Guard sparse but present. But Varric's room hadn't changed, and I could hear him speaking about some business with someone else. We needed to be private, so I turned to put my back to the wall out of sight from Varric's room and crossed my arms, as this could be a long wait.

Hawke had a different idea and wrapped herself around me, her blouse very low, low enough it took me a second to realize how close she was. Holding her close, her back had only skin to feel instead of armor, and I felt a qualm about the risk we were taking here where we were known. Touching her chased off that lonely qualm and I happily waved it goodbye.

When her leg went around me and I had to support her weight, I whispered, "You're pushing a little too much for a public area, pretty bird..." The new endearment felt right.

"No further," she said agreeably with a laugh in her whisper. "But no one is really looking at our faces, they'll try to figure how likely it is that we'll go further. You Wardens _do_ have that reputation."

I laughed into her hair. "How have you managed to avoid that reputation? Haven't some of those blasted stories about the Champion had you in bed with all of us, sometimes in groups?"

Meeting my eyes, Hawke admitted, "I suppose being Champion from defeating Qunari isn't exciting enough, people want a Champion in their bed."

"Does fighting your blasted mabari off count?" I murmured as a babbling drunk passed us. "But no, I am very sure your bed has only two..." _And I was very grateful to the Maker it was me._

"Well, I do have a fondness for a certain threesom..."

That old tease I silenced with a hard kiss; taking the rest of her weight as I pulled her closer; I could wait.

A cough beside us and I heard a smug voice say, "I can't take you two anywhere, can I?"

_- x -_

_A/N: When this ship name came up in a random name generator, I had to use it. Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	13. Edgy Reunions

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Kirkwall, _The Hanged Man_ **

**Anders:**

Turning her head, Hawke said breathlessly to Varric, "You should have come along with us, just to meet Sigrun."

"Oh, really? That sounds like a tale not for the hallway." Varric sounded like his old humors again. "It might have been a bit more fun, too."

So I returned Hawke to her feet with a quick kiss and we entered Varric's suite. It looked nearly unchanged in the months we'd been gone, but this time he shut the door.

Varric poured strong drinks and put his feet up on his long table as Hawke and I sat next to each other opposite him.

I had many fond memories of card games and a lightly drunk Hawke next to me right here. I took my drink and enjoyed the fumes this time, my arm around her openly now. This was quality alcohol and to be enjoyed. I had a sip and then a larger swallow or two, enjoying my freedom.

His smile was genial as we savored, but Varric's voice was a little more tentative when he spoke. "I wasn't sure I'd see you again, Hawke, after what happened." He wasn't quite looking at me.

Hawke looked as sad as I felt about it. I'd _wanted_ Varric to be around to help Hawke after... I was gone. I trusted him more than anyone else, anyone who wasn't already a Warden. The others helped her and sometimes me, but the merchant lord had had no other agendas.

Telling exaggerated stories about us was the worst that could be said, and he'd been a good friend in every other way.

Varric's face lost all humor. "Things have happened, Templars and Seekers prying all over in the aftermath. One is especially persistent and keeps coming back with more questions, thinking that I'm not telling everything."

"What? He wants to know about your secret collection of satin bustiers?" Hawke asked in an attempt at humor.

His face brightening, Varric pretended to reach for Bianca. "Shit, Hawke. When did you find out about them? Who talked?" A pause and he said simply, "I'm sorry, Hawke."

Her smile faded as well and she said as plainly, "I was angry and scared too. I didn't know there could be that many knives in my back."

I winced and downed my drink, then rubbed her back as those wounds I couldn't heal.

Looking at me for a moment, she turned again to Varric. "I was worried too, but I ended up more angry that you didn't trust me. That you didn't even bother to check first. I thought you caught the trick of it with Kieran when Anders checked him for possession or control."

I had to speak here, as it had become more clear over the months to me. "They didn't want to risk you. They wouldn't have been able to heal you if they had been correct in their fears."

They had been protecting Hawke in a way from me, from us.

Varric looked at me with interest. "You're much calmer about this, Blondie. Did you lose your glowing half somehow?"

"_**Hardly**_," we said with a slight smile. _**"**__**But she did find a kind of cure for us."**_

Hawke gripped our hand and I returned her smile with a quick kiss of her hand before adding, "Justice was cursed by a demon in Amaranthine. He was supposed to go mad and become a demon for meddling in their plans. It didn't work out that way, he hadn't expected something like me."

Smirking, Hawke whispered over-loudly, "You are unique, my love."

"So you don't plan on doing anything drastic this visit, like demolishing my suite?" Varric asked with a little nervousness that wasn't all feigned.

"Not unless you start summoning demons, the stone should survive. I know how your people get about the Stone." I grinned.

"No, summoning Bianca to help is good enough for me," he said with his smile returning. "Well, Hawke, when you went to ground for months while the chaos spread out from the Circles and Chantries, I could see that Blondie or his passenger wasn't calling the shots." His smile a taunt at me, he added, "You really can't hide that well to save your life, 'A.' We considered starting a collection of your secret messages."

I sniffed my disbelief but Hawke snickered.

Varric smirked at us. "I heard a rather funny rumor about a pirate attack on a Qun vessel. Nothing solid since then, but now it sounds like you've been in my family's old stomping grounds."

Hawke looked at me. "We might have stayed a little longer, but we were attacked by a group of Carta looking for me. They're more organized than the ones we dealt with before the Deep Roads. And... this was just after we got a message that Bethany had been attacked at Ansburg Keep."

Hawke's voice got flatter from that interrogation. "We... I got out of them that their orders came out of Kirkwall."

Varric steepled his fingers and said, "I'd heard about the attack on Sunshine, but not that she might return."

"A message went by bird, so she should be here soon." Hawke leaned against me.

"It's far too quiet without the Hawke sisters around here, I had so _little_ to write about," Varric mourned.

Hawke shook a fist without heat. "You're making me so busty!"

"It's what the audience wants, Hawke, unless you want a manly beard?" Varric asked with an easy grin. "I can do that, a manly if only human beard. Tall, with piercing eyes and a broken nose. For dramatic irony, I could make him a blood mage."

"Can't say I want a beard that much." Hawke was trying to suppress a grin. "I'm rather attached to a certain mage too."

"Wouldn't bother me at all, love. I'd adore you that way too." Not that Hawke being a blood mage would set very well, but I couldn't imagine some kind of life without her, or him.

"I'd rather keep what I have," she said dryly. "One of your books was in the Shaperite archive as if it wasn't fiction, Varric."

"You wound me, Hawke. When have I sought to mislead my readers?" Varric said, putting his hands to his heart. "You'll have to tell me how you got in, too."

"Can we have a cut this time? There's a lot of her heaving bosoms and my magical staff, and we can't draw on her estate anymore." I didn't want another Proving.

Varric rubbed his jaw and said, "I believe your cousin from Denerim has been taking care of things. Poor woman is blind ever since the Blight and unable to travel. Seems it's taking far too long for a new Viscount to be chosen and some law said the estate couldn't be forfeit except for high treason against the Viscount. You plainly could not have done that since there was no viscount when you left."

"I have a cousin now, poor woman. I hope she'd hired a strong attendant to protect her from all those fortune hunters?" Dera grinned before looking at me. "Perhaps even a someone with a knowledge of healing?"

Varric and Dera bantered for a while about this mythical cousin and her adventures in Queen Anora's court, but I only listened to them as the warmth from my drink spread out from my belly.

Then Varric was surprised at my second drink. "You drinking? Something I never expected, Blondie. What's the story? You can tell Papa Tethras," he coaxed.

Looking at Hawke, I almost wanted to keep the story to ourselves because of Vengeance 's threat. I'd been so afraid he'd kill her for so long, and confused when Justice seemed to approve. But Varric knew the worst of it and I doubted the former priest would keep what he knew secret.

Dera spoke up. "Please don't spread all the details, most won't believe it even if we do. But Vael can vouch for it."

"The little prince found you and lives. That will be a tale." The dwarf rubbed his hands in anticipation and slipped a notebook from under the table.

"I don't want to kill my friends," Hawke insisted sadly, "even if I think they're wrong. I suppose it started when we were leaving the area and decided to help Merrill do something for her clan. It was a good thing to do. Anders'... spirit problem lessened as soon as we left Kirkwall for a while."

Raising his hands, Varric objected while looking at me. "Hey, now. We're in Kirkwall right now. You sure you're fine?"

I had to get him. "Right as rain and fit as a fiddle. Eager to meet new people and blow Templars up. I don't have overwhelming urges... much." I jerked my head to the side like a tic as I spoke and wondered if there was any way I could get Justice to help with a gag.

_**No.**_

_Spoilsport. Not even if it persuades him that Vengeance is truly gone?_

_**There will be other ways.**_

A quick and wary glance, and Varric laughed when Hawke and I broke out into laughter. "You can stop pulling my leg and tell the story, Blondie."

Grinning, I continued for Hawke, "We left Kirkwall, avoiding towns pretty much for a while, before visiting some smaller ports along the coast to get passage. Merrill wanted to find another clan that might be able to help what remained of the clan still on Sundermount, so we went to the Dales to look. They'd help if something old was retrieved from the gentle protection of another Varterral like under Sundermount. It had kept them away from an old ruin for many years. Merrill wanted to study after we got it, but Hawke insisted she that get a new set of armor."

Hawke smacked my arm at that.

The next part got harder for me. "We went east, toward Ferelden, but started having more run-ins with Templars and assassins because Vael offered that bounty on us. Vengeance started getting worse during this, much worse, and Hawke remembered part of the Warden's tale of the Blight."

"Yes, you know more about that, wouldn't you? You've been holding out, how much?" Varric sounded annoyed.

Frowning, I deliberately fingered my uniform, saying, "Much of it is Warden business and sometimes I wish I didn't know. Some I wish never happened."

Hawke rubbed my back for a second, and took the story, "Merrill and Anders had used up all our potions and we needed a place to sell things off. So we decided the Chantry couldn't have too strong an influence in Orzammar. We met Sigrun there."

"She was the one in the Legion of the Dead in my stories of Amaranthine," I said.

Varric looked surprised. "I kind of assumed she'd died by now. They usually don't live long as the deshyrs are pretty good at ordering them into something fatal."

Rubbing my back from where I'd been hurt, I shook my head. "She's much more practical and is a little surprised too."

"She enters Provings and uses them for recruiting. I'm not completely sure how, but she persuaded me to be in a Proving last year," Hawke said. "Maybe I wanted to compare myself with how the Hero of Ferelden did, when I wasn't a Grey Warden."

Varric was only half watching us speak because of his notes.

Surprised at Hawke's admission, there was one part I didn't want forgotten. "She hasn't mentioned that there was a _second_ Proving weeks ago where it was much deadlier. We aren't doing any more."

"Fine. I think I prefer fighting for a better reason." She looked at Varric again. "I didn't like seeing Dust Town anymore than Alienages. But after we left I was trying to catch rumors to tell us where to go and a whole lot of mercenaries attacked us on a raised section of Tevinter highway. Sebastian hired them.

"They died."

Hawke got upset at that once in a while, but that was pointless.

"They attacked us and were collecting pay for it. A lot of pay," I told Varric with a rub of my fingers together for our looting.

"The biggest reason we won was that he had no mages and Merrill and Anders could use their full magic. There were no neutrals or innocents nearby. Sebastian alone survived and had to give his parole. I really didn't want to kill him, but I wasn't going to let him go out and hire a bigger army." Hawke's frown reassured.

"As soon as he realized we were seeking the Sacred Ashes, he wasn't that hard for Hawke to convince. You might even say he lusted after it when he found out I actually knew more than the common rumor," It was almost funny when he'd settled into not wanting me dead as much.

A whistle and Varric admitted, "I hadn't quite believed that it had been found during the Blight. Too many things had been credited to the Hero of Ferelden. King and Queen and the Circle had been annulled, Templars should have been happy with her, right?"

"Not completely. Some mages and Templars survived, but the First Enchanter died in the battle, and others were lost to demons or blood magic before the Wardens arrived. Calling it an annulment was probably to pretend they had influence on what the Commander did. I remembered enough from talks in camp to help get us there. Getting in was different from her tale and dangerous." As much as I had mixed feelings about the Chantry, the Ashes had saved me so I didn't want them harmed.

Hawke grinned, "I think Sebastian was expecting that the Ashes would kill Anders instantly. But Andraste forgave her killers, so I hoped his belief was wrong."

I grinned as well, as Vael had not been happy about my living. "So, since the Maker didn't smite me, Vael couldn't say I was unworthy of mercy."

I saw that Varric had a similar doubt as I about that test, but it still granted me a miracle.

"Once Sebastian and Merrill went on their way and winter passed, I wanted to visit where my family lived before the Blight," Hawke said sadly. "Some Wardens caught up with us and Anders was not given any choice about being under orders again. In Orzammar again, Sigrun wanted to do a Proving with Anders that time. After that, I got a message from Bethany about her being attacked, and so here we are."

"So, you're on terms with Chantry boy again? I didn't expect that. The cousin seems very set on the throne and the country is doing well after a decade since his father and brothers died. He showed up there for a while right after Kirkwall but disappeared again, and I wasn't sure if he'd been quietly killed by the cousin," Varric said while thinking. "Where did the Carta attack you, in Orzammar?"

"We'd been there a bit over a month between enhancing my new armor and that Proving," I admitted, "But they were Carta. So we'd like to see if your contacts have anything about a Carta plan regarding the Hawke ladies. They are a much smaller group to deal with than the Chantry. Ser Mew will be pleased."

"Ser Mew?" Varric asked with a laugh. "Did you finally get yourself a cat?"

With a snobby sniff, I told him, "Ser Mew Cattinay is a distinguished fellow. He even tolerates a _dog_..."

"I thought it was your brighter half that didn't like cats, Blondie,"

_See, I wasn't the only one to think that!_

_**Your small prisoner serves no purpose.**_

_He makes me happy, I try to make him happy._

_**You take him into danger, and he is more fragile than the mabari.**_

_You are a... a dog person, Justice. _I was horrified that both he and Hawke had that illness.

_**That does not change his fragility.**_

"He thinks cats are too fragile," I said, knowing I was pouting.

Dera hugged me closer for a moment. "Maybe we can figure something out, or find a foster if you get ordered into the Deep Roads. But I tried to do that for Paws already and he's hard to fool."

Another reason for me to feel bad, Oriana and Sandal did that for years. But he was surely in Orlais and I hoped she had gone to Ferelden where slavery was less tolerated. "Varric..."

"Despite his love for diamondback, I'm not sure Paws would buy that now." Hawke didn't sound surprised and her eyes glistened. "He's not a pup anymore, but so few die of natural causes. If we die I'm not sure what he'd do. Bonded mabari choose..."

After the silence Varric said with a rough voice, "He's good company and would be welcome. I could get used to a cat too."

No one really wanted to talk after that for a bit and we finished our drinks before anyone spoke again.

"Let's see what gossip we have for our errant Champion. Aveline dove right in for restoring order when she returned and trade resumed before the first ships arrived from Orlais. If she'd been interested, she probably could have been acclaimed Viscount before the end of the year. She makes all sides behave and has a fill-in court running, which made workers and traders relax. More Templars under Cullen survived than mages but he allowed some out to heal survivors at the Chantry, after that others injured from the fighting and looting. Within a week, they were still about the only ones allowed out of the Gallows, I still haven't learned who the new first Enchanter is."

That made my heart ache, I didn't know that many still in the Gallows before. But Orsino's use of blood magic made me wonder how many had resisted and if they had gained anything from my actions. _I failed them._

"Calm down, Blondie."

I opened my eyes and saw that I was glowing. "We wanted the Karls and Bethanies to have a chance at freedom. We can guess now why the blood mages got out of the Gallows so easily. Something like the Alienage would be a vast improvement."

"Not that the Alienage should be what it is either," Hawke growled. "Nor Dust Town."

"Anders." Varric used my name, rare enough to get my attention. "At first those mages were escorted by a squad each and they healed or sometimes used magic for rescues of Templars and Chantry. But the squads kept shrinking until it's only two, sometimes a trainee like Kieran. It's continued since then, even if no other policy changes have been announced. There's usually a half dozen mages every day and they haven't exactly been free to chat, but it isn't the same ones all the time. They have set locations: one in Hightown, a few storefronts in Lowtown,... and a clinic in Darktown. Wish I could tell you more about the Circles that fell, but waves of Templars and Chantry still visit here."

It was a small improvement, but one of the more important ones I'd hoped for. Once I hadn't cared much about non-mages, except as brief candles and means to stay free. That changed when I made friends and didn't have to worry as much about capture. Inside the Circle, we could only face inward in shallow relationship games and study our magic. We couldn't use it for anything real. I sighed. "The Maker's gift."

"Say, I could use that for a story title." The dwarf was grinning again.

"What about Fenris?" Hawke asked.

"He does an occasional job, sometimes something for that elven smuggler. He's waiting for something."

When I looked at Hawke, I knew I wasn't going to be able to avoid meeting him again. Maybe it would be easier with my current alcohol relaxed state. "Alright, let's get this over with."

Hawke said our goodbyes, by the time we reached the street Justice was restless.

With some drunken giggles Hawke pulled me towards one of the less traveled stairs to Hightown. The narrow stair still had a few chunks that nearly blocked us, but we passed through the archway into the square in front of where the Chantry had been.

That pillar where Vael had shot his arrow wasn't that much taller than the Arishok anymore. Maybe I imagined the smell of the gaatlock. That was stupid; it had to have been washed away with most of the rubble over the last months. There was some scaffolding up the stairs saying they were rebuilding. More importantly, there was a large painted statue of Andraste in the courtyard and a canvas roof over the square that showed patterns to the stitching far overhead. The stairs had the podium and the candles were again gathered at Andraste's feet. An open air Chantry.

It felt much more open and less like a dark cell.

Then I stopped and just looked around. While it lacked the benches of Chantries in Ferelden it didn't feel like before either.

I had mixed feelings about building a new Chantry, they were as corrupt as Tevinter. But I still admired Andraste herself, whether she might have been a mage as rumored or not.

Hawke had stopped too, went to the candles and lit one. Her cautious motions and quiet meant she was still worried about Justice and I.

I squeezed her hand. He... we still believed they were wrong, but I knew of no better answers. Tevinter and Dalish gods were no better and Andraste offered hope even if the Chantry forgot this.

Maybe Hawke was that hope for more than just me. We Wardens had killed far more, even in Amaranthine when fighting the Blight. I pulled her close. I couldn't take it if she lost that last bit of innocence that she tried to befriend even Templars and Chantry, despite me.

But that little bit probably had persuaded Cullen to step back. I pulled her close again for a silent kiss, a promise to myself as well.

I lit a candle as well, that we could do better this time, without Vengeance.

As we turned around to climb the stairs to Fenris' home, I more consciously noted a handful of sisters at various tasks in the near-Chantry and even fewer Templars. For the first time I wondered what they would think if they realized we were right here.

Hawke impatiently pulled me up the stair.

Still a little bemused by our visit to the Chantry, we reached the narrow square that held the door to Fenris' home. Hawke tested the door, and it wasn't locked for long.

We went inside and again I was a little sickened by the debris from decay. A body or two were only bones and the hole in the ceiling was larger.

I'd never liked the elf, but this was too macabre, even for a Warden.

Hawke locked the door again and only sighed when she took in the few low light plants that could grow inside a mostly stone building. I was fairly sure some were Deep Mushrooms. Lady Elegant might pay well for a close supply. Regardless, Hawke moved inward to the central hall.

This room was clearer of wildlife aside from a sapling in the middle. It was growing too well to be an accident and I wondered why. Nothing else had changed, and Hawke climbed quickly towards the Master room that Fenris had claimed.

She knocked.

A puzzled Fenris opened the door, and in wine flavored breath said, "You shouldn't be here."

_- x -_

_A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	14. Sacred Fires of Liberty

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Kirkwall, Hightown**

**Hawke:**

I really hadn't expected a Chantry under canvas in the former Chantry square. I never really thought about it. I'd expected they'd import dwarves and maybe even hire former Fereldans from Darktown. Years of steady work and even low pay would be better than Darktown and cat meat.

But I neglected that Andraste gave people hope. Between Anders and I, we had thrown down the ones who gave only lip service to the problems of Lowtown and Darktown. That left no one to give Kirkwall hope.

Staying here was suicide; Sebastian and the Divine would have Marched on Kirkwall. The city didn't need that on top of what Anders did.

_I had to talk to Varric._

After I lit a candle in the Chantry for hope, I was surprised when Anders lit one as well. Afraid his was only for show, I saw his eyes were as solemn as his face.

When we moved to the arched stairway up to the square where Fenris lived, I was almost surprised to notice a handful of sisters and Templars praying or speaking quietly to others. I thanked the Maker that Vengeance made no appearance; I would probably worry about that for a long time, even if I trusted him.

The door of Fenris' home looked unchanged but for a few new scratches, I was a little worried that someone else had moved in, but they'd replace or paint the door. I opened the long familiar lock as he rarely heard any knocking. Inside looked much the same, but the roof holes were larger because some boulders, possibly from the Chantry explosion, settled in with the rotting interior and growing saplings. I was never sure if he'd left things to rot here as a commentary on Kirkwall or Danarius.

I doubted a slave was allowed to be this messy, either, so this was his choice.

When we reached the suite he lived out of, the door was closed, so I knocked.

The door was thrown open as a slightly drunken Fenris told me, "You shouldn't be here."

About to say something smart-ass, he lunged into a hug that made my ribs creak.

Anders stepped around to meet my eyes, but he seemed surprised too.

"Maybe I'm not here and I'm on some sunny beach in Antiva," I managed to squeak.

Leaning back a little, he kissed me on both cheeks. "I am glad to see you Hawke."

I thought I flushed an apple red and returned the hug before he stepped back. He rarely touched anyone. "I'm glad to see you too."

Anders gave a muffled snicker, but looked innocent when I turned to him.

Fenris looked at Anders too, but his loathing might have been a little weaker on seeing the Grey Warden armor. "Did you steal that armor to hide, Abomination?"

Aggravating each other was an old tune. I didn't have to explain Warden-shit. I could defer to Anders now if I wanted, since he was senior to me and that was everything about Warden rank.

"Of course I did, I got a full set of new Warden mage armor that fits me perfectly and is well enchanted in a market stall in Orlais. They sell them by the thousands to Qunari with the Divine's blessing." Anders was getting pissed as usual.

_Was that a snicker I heard from the elf? _"Anders..." Fenris deserved most of the truth, if not all.

Anders' annoyance shifted into anger and then wide eyed despair. "No, it was issued to me when I was hauled back under orders. They impressed on me consequences for not behaving."

"Good," Fenris grunted. "At least your death will serve some value."

"Fenris." I thought he was just as pig-headed as Anders. "I'm here because _I was_ attacked by a hired Carta gang, not him. Bethany was attacked inside a Warden outpost by Carta too. Questioning one led back here."

Fenris swore in Tevinter. "I've heard nothing about that."

I waved at my cheap dress that rivaled one of Isabela's for brevity. "We're just here to take care of that. Nothing else."

"There were assassins here looking for _you_, Hawke. More than just for the mage, ranking Templars and Seekers as well." He sounded more worried than I'd expected.

"Well, Meredith's putting my statue in heavy armor confused too. How often did I get recognized if I wasn't in my Champion armor?" That was one thing Anders and my near tryst at the _Hanged Man_ earlier had convinced me.

As we leaned against the furniture and drank, we told him about the Dalelands and the ruins we'd seen there. Also that we wintered in a small village. For Orzammar, we only described the lava pools, the hall of Paragons, and the Proving I'd watched with Sigrun.

I didn't mention much about the Wardens other than commenting that some of the other senior ones from Ferelden like Nathaniel Howe didn't wear the uniform either, so Anders hadn't been unique. Anders glowered but didn't explain anything about his interactions with the Warden. I shrugged as if mystified.

Like Varric, Fenris was surprised to see Anders drinking. "I will not tolerate you losing control again, Abomination." The threat was a little less effective with his still drunken slurring, though he seemed to be trying to pull himself together to say it.

Anders smirked back at him and tugged his earring. "I can carouse _all__ I want_, no Warden rule against that."

I had been taking a swig when I felt the buzz of magic, enough that I dribbled some of my drink. I glared at Anders for a second.

"You both wear earrings." Fenris spoke as if he was surprised and suspicious at the change.

I sometimes forgot mine and touched it. "Yes, he found them in a smuggler port. Some things were almost funny. We hid in a bilge compartment when our ship was attacked by pirates."

Anders smirked. "It was Isabela's ship."

Fenris chuckled and we sat there for a while quietly as our livers pickled. But after some time Fenris looked again at Anders to say, "Why is he here? _He_ never bothered to come before when we drank like this..."

"I was stupid, but that's over," Anders said with finality.

"My promise holds." Fenris' growling threat was clear.

I said, "He's going to consult others for anything that isn't self defense or some kind of Warden mission."

Fenris looked back and forth at Anders and I for a long moment but blearily sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing, Hawke."

That doubt made me sigh. "Most of the time, I'm pretty sure. Some things change, but I want to make my father proud, protect the people I care for, and help others when I can. That's enough to keep me busy."

"That seems simple enough, Hawke."

I had to look at Anders. He was still awake and I didn't feel as drunk as I should have been, either. _An unexpected benefit of my Joining, __maybe?_ Fenris was nearly asleep and slipped into the steady breathing of a sleeper.

We left, and I felt nearly sober when we made it back to the outpost. Wardens didn't recognize us, but saw something in Anders or his uniform. That didn't get us any larger a room in this crowded house but we had a door and our pets. Anders fell asleep quickly, holding me close.

I wasn't feeling sleepy after my talk with Fenris. I wasn't about to cry coward for any mistakes I'd made. I did what seemed best for the most innocents aside from one gray, gray mercy. A decision that would have been the end of my heart and any... justice for mages like Karl. How many Karls could the Chantry justify before they were as evil as Tevinter? How many elves were made like slaves, dependent on Alienage 'protection?' If they really believed that Andraste and the Chant was better, why did they force it on people like the Qun did? They sullied the Maker and Andraste with their darkness.

As I drifted to sleep, I wished they could understand that keeping desperate people from fleeing to the Qun would be an easy battle if they put more weight to Andraste's words to the oppressed instead of abusing in their turn.

_- x -_

I got restless as we waited those days for Bethany to arrive. I actually wasn't that sure where Ansburg was located, how long travel time was, or how long until she got permission to travel. I hoped it wouldn't be weeks, though I started traveling with some weapons and a few grenades if I went out.

Anders simmered if he stayed inside, only somewhat calmer when I returned after he'd spent hours with his nose buried in a book. I stayed in most of the time too, only partly to keep him company. Our voices, with stronger Fereldan accents again, would probably be how we'd be recognized here.

Late one night, I decided to go out. Fewer Templars and law abiding locals should be up and about. Maybe I was hoping to run into a few of the less friendly sorts, to handle my tension.

"I'm coming too," Anders announced as I strapped some daggers onto my dark armor.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No worse than you going out, love. My appearance has changed more."

I looked at him, noting his uniform. "Are you bringing a blade or staff?"

He thought for a moment and slung Celebrant on.. "Blade. I don't want to get caught now."

Finding gangs of thieves or blood mages wandering Kirkwall was a never ending task. I was hoping for fewer blood mages though.

We moved through the city. We found a few muggers in Hightown near the _Rose_, but avoided the mansion. A gang in the docks broke and ran after two had fallen, maybe when Anders' Warden armor was more visible.

Then we went into Darktown and my feet automatically turned to go to the clinic as did his. Looking over the stairs that led to it, I reached for his hand and we gripped each other before setting forward. We had a few scratches, nothing he couldn't have healed, but it made for an excuse.

We stopped outside the doors, and looked in. Anders stopped at the top of the stairs, and none of my tugging made him step any closer.

He looked at me, his eyes looking lost. "I can't... this was safety and prison. I was me sometimes but in _**the quiet **_and darkness he whispered_** to us... **_of how we_** could end the **_hate and pain_** for good, **_that it never happen_** again to another mage..."**_

I looked at the clinic, hearing the murmurs inside and pulled Anders away to a nook near the torches. They were glowing briefly as they'd struggled for words. I pulled him along until I was in the corner and he facing me.

He clung to me with his face buried in my neck, and he breathed out some of his tension.

I ran my fingers through his hair until his arms around me relaxed. I was having trouble finding any words to help them. "You resisted him for years... you listened to me when you were wrong. You forgave me when I rescued Cullen and when I didn't turn Fenris over to the Magisters."

He pulled back to look me in the face, his eyes moist. "I'd forgive you anything, love." His fingers traced the side of my face before leaning forward to kiss me.

As I pulled his head closer too, I felt warmer as his magic flowed through me. Smiling up at him, I said, "Now what's supposed to be our excuse to visit the clinic?"

He looked back and then gave me a deep kiss. "We don't need an excuse. They don't need me anymore..."

"Anders?"

He looked up involuntarily.

"Velvet, red as blood. Velvet tempting as a whore's kiss," the woman said with a smirk.

Anders paled, but neither of us could possibly pass as a whore right now.

"What are you doing here, Ser?" The worn-looking woman looked worried behind her smile.

"Elessah? How are Rasa and your husband?" Anders asked.

I answered _her_ question. "We're only here briefly. He wanted to see how you were doing."

She nodded. "They're fine. It's not safe here. Templars come daily, hoping to hear something."

"I'm sorry." Anders straightened up, so that only his grip on my hand was painful.

Elessah frowned. "Did you kill the Grand Cleric and destroy the Chantry? There were students and orphans there, not just Templars."

Anders winced. "Yes. A demon influenced me, but I made a stupid decision. I am deeply, deeply sorry that innocents died."

She looked back to the clinic. "We worried, with how strained you were. I don't think any of us were totally surprised."

Anders smiled. "I'm much better now, by the grace of Andraste. And Hawke's faith in me."

I felt my face warm.

"You should be fairly safe down here in Darktown, if not in the clinic. Do you want to come in?"

Anders accepted, and we got a quick tour. There were a few sleeping patients, not ready to leave. A few things had changed locations, but the shelves of potions and notes looked intact and full. He carefully stepped into his 'room,' and collected a few small items.

Anders looked around and he scribbled a couple healing recipes on paper. "Arrange to 'find' these soon. I found them on our travels."

I added, "We don't know if or when we might return."

After that we didn't dawdle, but moved through some of the hidden smuggler ways until I was sure we had no followers. He looked a bit happier to know that his clinic was still open.

I wasn't happy when I heard crying, that kind of despairing sniffling when trying to hold it in, but carried even over the sound of wind and sail. That brought back memories of leaving Gwaren with Carver's dried blood still on me.

I had to know. I gestured at Anders for quiet and moved forward, knowing he'd follow as quietly as he could. Ahead, I found a larger chamber with steep, ancient stairs, salty smells of rot and dead fish wafted down.

Huddled around the stairs was scores of chained people, elves and humans both. I was sickened by those who weren't chained. One woman was in rich Tevinter robes with some kind of male assistant while another half dozen looked like a squad of Carta. They spoke on the suitability of their prisoners, even as I counted how many there were.

It wasn't that many. Three mages at most plus the Carta. But the dwarves might resist magic and this was only Anders and I this time. His best spells would kill the captives and we didn't have time to get help.

I whispered, "Sword," to Anders when he caught up. I had to hope the other mage would avoid killing her captives. I gestured for a hold until they were counting out money and then gestured a count.

Even as I reached three, I charged forward and I heard Anders charging forward with a shout.

The richness of the Magister's robes made her an obvious target and her blood began to swirl when I stabbed her. Moving behind her and ducking her staff, I ripped through her spine with my longer Qun blade and the floating blood stopped and fell to the ground in dull splats.

Justice was scything through dwarves, but the assistant was more worried about me and shoved a force spell out and I was pushed away.

Skidding to a stop, I reached for a grenade to stun the second mage when Anders swelled up like a demon, summoning more to overwhelm the dwarves. His flesh disappeared completely and all that was left was the demon flesh.

I felt like my heart had been ripped out as the electricity flickered around and Anders' golden hair fell away. I was dying as he destroyed the dwarves in explosions of blood. My heart was slowing to a stop as it broke.

Agony in my gut made me turn and my blood began to fly to the second mage.

He was too close and I tried to move away but flopped to the ground, unable to move.

A bellow from behind and Anders shouted, "Hawke! Don't be dead!"

I felt a little better and not just from some healing when I heard his voice. Rolling a grenade, I scrambled away.

Anders swept the blade one more time without much force and left a fan of ice behind, and cast another spell. There was only two warriors and the mage left.

Applying a bit of poison, I slashed at all of them in a rush as spots kept fading in and out of my vision. I killed the last dwarf. Anders got the rest and I dropped to my knees again.

He was fine. I clung to that thought and remembered some of Merrill's spells.

Anders dropped beside me, checking and healing my injuries before hugging me gingerly.

Fiercely I squeezed him and made him drink a potion before he collapsed.

He returned it properly then, but said with a hint of a smile, "I have to check the prisoners."

I let go and we got to work. Without talking about the reasons with each other, we didn't say much to the people we were freeing. I worked on the chains and staples while Anders worked on the injuries. I answered most questions with a shhing gesture; the less they knew the less they could give away accidentally.

We split up the money they were considered worth among them and led them back to the clinic and away from the docks. We left, back to Lowtown. We _weren't_ going out again like this.

We'd spent another evening of the next few with Varric, talking about little things, let alone what I was coming to believe. Mew liked the dwarf, much like everyone else I'd seen. However, we didn't speak about the Chantry, Justice, or the Wardens any more than we had. Those were still sensitive. We were still careful, on both sides. The nice thing was that a Warden half carrying a wench to some Lowtown hovel was nothing very interesting.

_- x -_

The Warden on door watch told Anders that Bethany had arrived, and my lack of uniform made me suspicious to her.

I didn't feel like arguing. Older wardens in the common could feel my taint. They didn't like that I wasn't in some uniform. As if I needed any more training to kill darkspawn, and Anders was quite willing to vouch for me there. Still they glared at me and one ordered set of armor for me, or tried.

I blamed my lack of uniform on Cousland's orders. If they could find her, they could complain all they wanted. Since she didn't wear any, nor had Nathaniel or Sigrun, I wasn't going to either, as long as possible.

Or maybe I was staying out of a uniform because Anders _couldn't._

Partway to Bethany's room, I told him, "I think you're handsome in that outfit."

"That is a good reason to wear something," Anders admitted, "But I could just buy something blue, too."

"We could return to you wearing something Chantry or Circle as a disguise..." I mock threatened. "Unless you really liked pretending to _not_ be a mage?"

Anders' shudder was only half faked and he shook his head. "For a time, love, but not forever."

"And maybe special occasions after that? Once in a while, I wonder what will happen in molting season." I ruffled the smaller area of feathers on his uniform.

Shaking his head, he towed me along towards the upper floor quarters with a mock growl.

Once I stood at the door, I was almost afraid to knock.

So Anders took my hand and he did. At the sound of her voice calling, Anders drew me inside.

Bethany sat there in an under-robe, but my voice was too dry to speak.

Anders spoke over my silence. "Bethany. What do you think of my ball and chain?" He preened in his new uniform.

Bethany was about to reply when she paused and turned towards me with a frown. She squinted and asked me in horror. "Sister, what did you do?"

I waved my hands helplessly.

Anders shut the door and took pity on me. "Cousland found us and conscripted her. We had no choice, unless we wanted to fight our way out. So here I am, back in the fold. And Hawke... " He paused and added, "I'm sorry that..."

Bethany's face hadn't changed but she interrupted. "Shut up, Anders, this is _your_ doing. Why, Sister?"

The short answer, I thought obvious and waved at Anders. "We needed allies and a chance to not be killed out of hand. Wardens take murderers, no one can argue that we aren't most excellent killers..."

I had to stop as I feared becoming that, and Anders tightened his grip on my hand.

"...we're supposed to recruit, especially recruit mages who want out of the war. Cousland offered this as her subvert support, when the First Warden wants to stay neutral. We can hide among other Wardens. We can hide in the Deep Roads now, since I'm now safe from Blight sickness."

Gruffly, Anders said, "I've been afraid of that for years, ever since the Bartrand's expedition and what happened to you. Afraid there wouldn't be any Wardens nearby for all those times we went underground. I really didn't know how Aveline survived."

"And of course," I said with a small smile, "I think he's finally convinced that he wasn't going alone on his Calling, whether I'm a Warden or not."

That got a weak smile from my sister. "I wish I could have found someone. Few of us do, after the Joining. And fewer manage to preserve previous relationships."

"Kristoff did," Anders said authoritatively. "It lasted past his life, actually."

Poking Bethany's arm, I said, "And you thought Anders wouldn't last."

"I didn't doubt that for long," my little sister said with a smirk.

Grinning at Anders, I said, "Well, I didn't know about that. He was very stubborn about going beyond an occasional flirt. It was closing on four blasted _years_."

That got Anders to flush and Bethany to snicker.

"I even visited the _Rose_ a few times, but that was pointless," I gave Anders a mock glare. "I'm not sure if I did that because I wanted to _have_ to visit Anders like Isabela did."

"Thank the Maker you didn't, Hawke, I... don't know what I would have done," he admitted, still pink.

I suspected I might have pushed, though I'd been more afraid of sending him away. Time for the reason for this journey. "The Carta who came after us were based here. Varric is checking his sources. As soon as he gets anything, I'm going after them. Do you want to come, Bethany?"

"Yes." Bethany sounded both relieved and offended. "We can even call Anders an honorary Hawke and say it's a family trip, right?"

Anders smirked. "If I'm going to be an adopted or long lost cousin, does that mean I can pester you like an older brother about who you're seeing?"

Flushing, my sister said, "No, you cannot. Not that I'm seeing anyone lately. You know how it is, Anders."

"Yes. We didn't have that many people at the Vigil after the fighting. And your sister is not going to learn." He pulled me closer.

I always found it amusing when he did that, as casual as he liked to appear.

Bethany stood and moved to her equipment. "I wish you weren't dressing like that, Aldera. Mother would be ashamed."

That woke an old pain. "She never approved of much after your Joining and Carver's death." _I had to live without __her __approval __s__ince Papa died. _ The anger I stomped on. Mother and I had said goodbye, but that hadn't healed the years.

"She wanted you to settle down and have a family, like she and Father did." Bethany wanted that too.

"Well, Papa told me I had to take care of you all."

"You could have found someone..." Bethany slowed as she remembered the likelihood of children for us.

I turned to look back up at Anders and smile. I had found him, and I wouldn't trade him for anyone, spirit and all. "There wasn't much safety or time in Kirkwall. No one wanted a waddling Champion or one with a toddler. There was no one else to work for the city as a whole, with how well the Viscount did. Charade's my heir after you and she's a decent sort."

His voice gray, Anders said, "As if we could have settled in Kirkwall to have a family even before Meredith lost it, or my problems."

"You made _your own_ problems. You should have known better to accept a spirit's offer." Bethany wasn't as forgiving now as she was after Karl.

Anders, paused and glowed briefly, and it wasn't clear which of them was more upset.

This was akin to kicking a beaten puppy and I was angry at my sister.

"That's water under the bridge. Justice was cursed by a demon and exiled here, possibly dying." I had to pause as that wasn't my secret. "We saw records of another with a spirit who didn't corrupt the mage so that ending was _not_ guaranteed. Unless Carver sowed some wild oats, the Hawke line _ended_ in Kirkwall."

_- x -_

_A/N: The chapter title is inspired by a quote by Washington. Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	15. Wasteland Activity

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Vimmark Wasteland, Carta Outerworks**

**Hawke:**

Varric didn't take that long to start getting information, only a very few days after Bethany reached Kirkwall. We remained within the Warden post with Anders healing any Wardens, until we visited Varric's suite to gossip about Tevinter rumors. Aveline and Donnic came one evening while we'd played some Diamondback. Paws was the only one really playing well.

She took me over to the side when I folded one hand with a determined look on her face. "I saw Fenris before you returned. He didn't ask about you, Hawke. Not like Varric did or even the Seekers. What happened after I returned to Kirkwall last year?"

The room got unnaturally silent, and I could hear the usual crowd downstairs. I hadn't wanted to remember it. Anders drank from his mug deeply and pretended to be looking at his cards. Varric's face had stilled.

Aveline was not going to like the story, and it still hurt too much for me to completely laugh it off. They didn't even have the excuse of an insane spirit in their heads. I looked at Anders again. I realized I hadn't forgiven them as much as I'd thought. I'd only managed to stuff it away.

At her suddenly suspicious glance, I waved towards our story teller. I couldn't tell this story; it would hurt less to bleed on her. Anders gripped his mug.

Varric closed his eyes briefly, and told a dry version of what happened. It was accurate, and held no humor in the telling.

Aveline demanded angrily, "At least Vael was open about his hatred, and Fenris was no surprise. But you knew Hawke the longest. You struck after the rest of us left, after I left!"

I found the words. "Let it go a bit. I was angry too, if not for exactly the same reasons."

Varric simply sat there, while Aveline fumed and then finally sat down and drank from Anders' mug.

Once we'd all reached mellow, Varric told of the first lead, that the Carta had some kind of base well away from the city. We really hadn't spoken about who was going, but no one claimed other business. I don't know if they missed our company or the adventure... or simply that Fenris didn't trust Anders as much as before. It seemed we'd all go.

Aveline and I spoke about returning Carta gangs behind us and that I didn't want two forces around us. I would have preferred if Merrill or Sebastian were still around, but I didn't know any other markers I had that still had any value.

We left early the next day, with a brief stop for me to change armor again, my Champion armor was still the best I owned. Anders' Warden armor was nearly as good as his black, he only changed weapons. He still wanted out of the blue and gray. A couple of Aveline's archers were round eyed when mine sank in, but they didn't attack.

The path wasn't on a trade route. Still it was used regularly enough for the mountains that we had little problem following it. Why the Carta might want a base this far away bothered me too.

A day and more through the mountains around the city, the terrain was plain unfamiliar in this direction. Late that day, we'd caught sight of something large and not part of the natural mountainside, something built. We made a spare camp, planning to go in early in the morning, with Aveline training her men at dawn first.

Anders could not be convinced that he had to leave Ser Mew behind, no matter how many of us spoke. I didn't try too hard as Justice was probably arguing too.

Looking in the morning, it was definitely a fortress of some kind, old, so very old by the strangeness of the design.

Fenris glared at it. "It resembles Tevinter construction slightly, just as older parts of Kirkwall do."

At the top of a rise, Varric said, "That it does. The Carta's base away from home and profit. Can't say why they came out here. It's just not that useful for their usual profit areas. They aren't usually stupid enough to attack Hawkes, you gutted their operations near enough before. I don't know why they'd attack you. They aren't likely to go after Vael's cheap bounty and the Chantry often doesn't pay up."

"My attackers were bold, Varric," Bethany frowned. "They snuck into the Grey Warden keep at Ansburg to find me. The commander was alarmed that they'd found an old entrance that had been sealed for centuries."

"They failed at Hawke or you, thank the Maker." Fenris sounded cross and looked at a scuff on his foot.

"Perhaps chasing bounty hunters is not the wisest move," Aveline said wryly, looking at her husband.

When we'd gathered to leave I'd been surprised both of them came along. Not Aveline, she was still ticked at Fenris and Varric a little.

"Maybe not," I agreed. "But I don't think ignoring them is the answer either."

Anders stayed quiet since we'd left the city. "I just don't like that they're hunting _you,_ Hawke. I wanted the blame on me, not you."

"You failed at that, mage." Fenris bristled again.

"Enough." I had no doubt he was willing to die for that, but even looking back there were few alternatives. Meredith, Elthina, and Orsino were poisonous. "The Carta didn't seem to care about what happened in Kirkwall."

Varric spoke with faint humor. "They are acting oddly. If this is their hideout, my sources couldn't tell me anything else."

"Your sources?" Aveline snorted her disbelief. "You have that many in the Carta, do you?"

"As far as my contacts in the Carta know, they shouldn't be here. There there's no business or targets. There shouldn't even be a here," Varric admitted. "This place is invisible. A big blind spot on the map. Bianca's never been this suspicious, and she's twitchy to start with."

"What do we matter to the Carta?" Bethany asked with a small whine unheard in years. "I just want them to stop trying to kill us."

Paws nosed her side.

"A fine point, Sunshine. So what's the plan, Serrah Hawke?" Varric asked me.

"There must be some reason why they're attacking us. At least we can deal with the one pulling the strings from here. I intend to find out and stop it." I didn't doubt this would cost in blood.

"Right. Only one way to do that," Varric said gruffly, pulling his crossbow off his back.

Bethany seemed surprised at his reaction, "So we're just going to walk in and start killing?"

I could feel the muscles knot on my forehead, and traded a glance with Anders. He looked unsettled too. This wasn't the experienced Warden my sister seemed the other times I'd seen her.

Varric's voice was soothing. "Don't worry, Sunshine. The bloodstains come out."

"At least **my** Warden Commander finally let me come," Bethany said with a sigh and a side glance at Anders and me.

Mustering up a grin, Anders admitted, "I have my orders. Just because my Commander's more rank than yours."

I interrupted as this didn't matter here. "We need to go in, before some group comes from the city to tell them we're here."

Aveline frowned at that. "We'll watch your back, Hawke. No one will come in after you."

Kneeling, I asked Paws, "Can you stay and help Aveline, boy? Think of it as another training exercise."

He didn't look happy, but he liked Aveline so that helped. Aveline and I traded looks, both remembering our earlier conversation on his aging after the Chantry.

"If you need me, Hawke, I'll... we'll be keeping watch." Aveline warned us as we left the defensible causeway. "Try not to get yourselves killed."

These ruins were a more barren piece of rock than even parts of the Frostbacks. There were more of us now, though. Bethany and I were the targets. Anders. Varric and Fenris.

Speaking with a sober Fenris was more brittle than it'd ever been before. He was here, but I wasn't sure why, with the way he watched Anders and me in a deeply suspicious mood. He watched Bethany less, and only seemed to relax the tiniest bit with Varric. Still, he took point with me as we moved closer to the buildings.

I didn't want to call it a fortress, even if it looked big enough. A fortress protected cities or strategic locations but this area wasn't even close to a road. What good was its protection if no one knew about it? Varric was right, this was very strange. Keeps were expensive to build. Who built a keep this close to Kirkwall, but left no trace in what records or tomes I'd seen in my years in the city? It wasn't even close enough to the city to help with a March or Qunari invasion.

As we got closer, we stumbled on a small group of dead dwarves on a switchback in the trail. Dead dwarves and even a bronto, something I'd not seen much of above ground. The level on the hilltop had junk from earlier battles, or simply left behind. There wasn't anything useful for our purpose, no answers, not that I was surprised.

After we looked around, I said, "I suppose we could take this as a warning..."

Varric shook his head, saying, "Most people would, but you?"

"Aren't we here after dwarves? Why would they kill _their own_?" Fenris asked, sounding a little troubled.

"Broody, these don't look like Carta. My guess would be Merchants' Guild, whose greed outweighs their caution, like most of 'em," Varric said after examining the clothing on the one body. "Being a dwarf doesn't save you from a Carta shiv."

Sounds were echoing through the rock canyons oddly. I heard noise as if someone was beside me, but there wasn't.

Anders whispered, "I don't see anyone throwing flower petals, do you think they are expecting us?"

After a few more minutes of careful advance over a worn trail, Bethany said in an excited whisper while pointing further ahead, "Look, the Carta have people watching for us."

I felt immeasurably older than my sister; of course forts or hideouts had perimeter guards.

Anders was still amused. "Then I guess we're not alone."

Fenris answered almost as fast, "They will alert others to our presence,"

Looking around us, I reminded them both, "We are not letting ourselves be lured in too fast so they can more easily surround us. We can retreat to where Aveline is too, she'll just glare at them."

Moving forward, the sounds of movement and whispers echoed. When I looked at Fenris, he heard them too, so this wasn't the whispering I knew to expect in Deep Roads. Still it sounded like Carta rats scurryed around us in the gullies and washes.

Stepping into an open area between the huge columns of a gate, bones and remnants of old battles scattered across the ground.

Varric spoke jokingly. "There's a lotta decorative skulls, Hawke. I don't think we're welcome at all."

No one else laughed but Mew.

When we passed through a hall of open air columns, at the far end was a Carta-dressed dwarf in an almost friendly stance.

When we got closer, he spread his arms as if to welcome us. "Both sisters! You're here together! You've come!"

Not only was his tone of voice very odd, but his eyes were cloudy. _Could dwarves get lyrium addled?_

Bethany asked, sounding confused, "Is... he referring to you and me?"

I couldn't resist looking at her, wondering if the Wardens had dropped her on her head. Anders and Varric were watching the dwarf, while Fenris was listening to my sister.

The Carta shouted to the sky like it cared. "Everyone! It's the children of Malcolm Hawke! They've come to us." His shout echoed through the stone work and gullies; it was sure to warn others.

"What does my father have to do with this?" I demanded. I'd prefer he was lyrium addled because they were harmless, but he was talking nonsense.

"It began with him and ends with you! Blood to blood, that's what we were told," the Carta dwarf insisted, in some kind of blind faith in someone's word.

"Dwarves don't need blood for anything. That's just stupid, a human thing. It's not like blood magic does anything useful or we get any benefit," Varric objected.

"Did... father do something to the Carta?" my sister asked.

I could believe that, as he taught me some sneaky things. About to mention my doubts, when the dwarf interrupted me. "You've come to us now and that's the only thing that matters!"

Waving my hand in the vain hope he'd settle, I said, "I just came here to clear up why the Carta's attacked us."

He shouted like it would convince anyone. "For the blood! We must have it!"

_Now that's plain idiotic..._ and I bared my teeth. "I hope you don't mean my blood. I'm still using it, you nug's bastard."

"We will take it! Corypheus will walk in the sun once more!" the nutcase proclaimed, as if we had any reason to care.

I muttered, "They just don't have your skills at conversation, Varric."

He didn't bother replying and lay down a covering fire.

Other dwarves had moved into view and they'd attacked at his exclamation; archers on far platforms did as well. The closer ones died quickly enough, but the archers had plenty of time to shoot us before Fenris and I could close.

Fenris was snarling more than I recalled in combat.

When we finished the last archer and paused to catch our breath, I looked at him, even if he wouldn't meet my eyes. "What's wrong, Fenris?"

"Why?" he said while still looking at the ground.

The others were crossing the rubble strewn area more cautiously. Anders was taking care of Bethany, who always rushed too far forward for my comfort, while Varric was checking the bodies they passed.

I was pretty sure I knew what he meant. "Why I asked you along?"

Fenris barely nodded.

Not really wanting to discuss this with the others present, I had to speak quickly, "Maybe I'm a connoisseur of betrayal. But yours wasn't as painful as his, and if I could forgive that... But like I warned him, I don't think I could again."

Finally raising his eyes, he said, "It will not happen again."

Worried a little about him showing his throat, I asked, "You know I don't mind you objecting, even pushing Anders sometimes. I value your opinions, even if I'll never agree that all mages are bad."

Fenris chuckled finally. "Yes, you would believe that with your sister. I don't think you realize how rare mages like her are. Even the abomination is softer than Magisters."

"I am not squishy," Anders objected with a smirk. "I am a Grey Warden, see the jaunty armor?"

"As if armor indicates value," Fenris spat.

Varric interceded with a grin, "It is odd to see Blondie in that armor like Sunshine. Hawke's Champion armor matches yours, Broody. I don't need anyone matching mine, I have Bianca."

"I don't like his ranting about someone they want to free." I looked at my quiet sister and added, "We plan on keeping our blood."

"We all like the Hawke ladies' blood where it is," Varric said with a bow.

Anders moved closer to me. "I cannot like this about prisons in darkness. That this Corypheus wants blood to get free is not acceptable."

"Of course it is acceptable, to mages," Fenris stated angrily.

Standing close to me, Anders put his arm around me and threw Fenris a raspberry. Even Bethany looked at the elf crossly.

For once, he flushed. Maybe he expected Anders to take the bait, and while Anders' grip was firm almost to the point of pain, I was glad he didn't.

Putting a smile on my face I had to say, "Well, some of them had their hoods so low, I don't think they even saw Fenris or me clearly."

"Next, they will imitate paragons of manliness and drop the large hoods. They won't do any worse," Varric smirked.

"Anders, do you know why their eyes were cloudy? I thought that was usually something Templars had," I was bothered by the whole idea of dwarven Templars.

"I don't know, love. Usually either lyrium or magic is involved. I've never even seen..." Anders stopped speaking, but I didn't know what he was thinking.

"Hawke, are you sure you don't have any idea why the Carta's after you?" Varric prodded me. "I'm not sure why attacking you out here would even get them your blood,"

I really didn't think they were rational at all. "Oh, I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding. Later we'll all have tea and laugh merrily."

Smacking his forehead theatrically, Varric exclaimed, "Oh, your name is Hawke? I thought it was Locke!"

I joined in on his laughter and heard Anders snicker once too.

"I can't believe you are joking about this," Bethany complained, exasperated with all of us.

Well, all of us but quiet Fenris.

"Don't worry, Sunshine. Our laughter just hides the pain. I hate it when businessmen lose their perspective," Varric said.

A ramshackle gate went into a wall, that had visible platforms for archers, even if there were no battlement walls to give them cover. No archers were visible either and the gate opened easily. Once inside it wasn't the inner courtyard of some keep, but a killing zone, with archer platforms on all sides.

Before I could do much more than notice the archers on two sides, a bronto of all things, appeared from the middle archway. This was not the quiet ones I'd seen on the Deep Roads expedition, but something more like the angry bulls of a farming village.

"Scatter!" I shouted, planning how to get behind it.

Anders and Bethany stayed near the entrance under a portion of the archers' ledge. Fenris charged forward after I threw a grenade and attacked the head. I wanted to hobble it before anything else.

Arrows grazed me and I had to choose which side of archers to go for instead. Varric was running to the one ramp, making me wonder what he was thinking. Curly chest hair was not that protective, so I ran after him.

The warriors up on the platform were attacking him when I stabbed them, one after another in sprays of blood. "Varric, whenever I say, 'let me take care of things,' you don't have to ignore it like this."

"Hawke, I just want to make sure you feel needed," he said with a smile as he pinned one archer in a bad stance.

A fireball from below got only the archers, before I closed. The last one was frozen and I waved down at Anders before running towards the other platform where Fenris was fighting several warriors. By the time the last was dead, everyone in our group had arrived.

I started looking around after looting the one I'd just killed. The Carta lout wasn't nice enough to have a detailed diary explaining everything I wanted to know. Next to the body was a lever, one that wasn't very hidden.

Curious, I looked down into the yard, and pulled the lever. Clanking below the platform sank down further into the ground, and a forest of spears rose up through the stone dust below the circling platforms. If we'd stayed in the middle, we would have been skewered.

"Maker," I could barely say as I imagined that if we'd still been down there.

"Love?" Anders said, coming over only soon enough to see the last row of spears disappear. He echoed my oath.

Calling the others over, we tested that the lever reset each time.

"Why did they not use it?" Bethany sounded worried.

Anders got angry. "Remember, Hawke? The Carta in Orzammar wanted you alive but didn't want Sigrun or I alive."

"Sigrun would surely be a loss to the Wardens..." Fenris observed with a wry smile.

"We don't have to discount that they're insane," Varric laughed. "They used an _attack_ bronto, isn't that enough? Those things are slow to train."

Hugging herself, Bethany wondered, "Dwarves after us for our blood. But, why?"

I held her arm. "That's a good question, but we'll get through this."

Anders laughed. "Deranged dwarves, we can now check that off the list."

He was forcing cheer in his voice, but I doubted Bethany would realize.

"Hey, we can't let humans have all the insanity fun," Varric said. "All those cackling Templars and blood mages, they had all the dramatic delivery when we faced them. You utterly failed to deliver any stirring lines for me to work with, Hawke."

"I am _so sorry,_ Varric. I'm a little too busy trying not to get killed. If you can convince them to stop trying to kill us long enough, I could read off something from one of your books," I told him with an over-sweet voice.

"That's okay, Hawke. Your enemies never have any sense of the dramatic," Varric said sadly. "What I don't understand is that the Carta doesn't normally act like this. They're businessmen."

I wanted to know who this 'Corypheus' is. We needed to find answers around here somewhere. Checking the crates and stray bags didn't tell me anything. But back in the dry gulch was a marker that Bethany called us to.

When I read it, the old language felt stilted about a dwarven warrior chosen to guard for the rest of his life. Guarding to defend against Stone-tainting Malvernis.

_Did dwarves think things were holy?_ I couldn't think of any who became zealots over the Maker, and the paragon statues and stories didn't sound holy in Orzammar.

Varric muttered, "Amgeforn..."

"What was that?" Anders asked quietly.

"Amgeforn is old dwarven for sacrifice," Varric explained. "That's not a reassuring name, for an exile's duty so far from the Stone.

Trying to cheer his unusual moodiness, I pouted, "We never go anywhere nice, do we?"

That got me a chuckle, but Bethany asked, "What's that at the end? 'Vellos..."

"Valos Atredum, in the old language, but still used on newly forged weapons," Varric said as he traced the words on the monument, quietly. "It means favor of the Ancestors, maybe showing them your worth, probably both. Clans and individuals could fall into death or exile so quickly if they screwed up their honor before the Stone, or just got unlucky."

I didn't want to break his thoughtful mood.

Bethany asked, "Who was Ilona?"

"Paragon, and not recent," Varric shrugged. "I know some only by name, only the Stone remembers them after enough centuries."

We carefully went behind the other platform, looking for more recent clues about the Carta's plans. There wasn't much in the crates, dried biscuits and other less useful things. But there was another monument.

Converging on it, I started reading it as we jostled for a better angle to read. Seeing the title at the top made me sad as well, that one of these honored warriors called the surface a wasteyard.

_**Amgeforn the Wasteyard**_

_**You who must serve beneath the empty sky, you stand between this Poison and the Stone. The Ancestors will remember when all others have forgotten your name.** _

_Would anyone remember my name?_ I was Champion or I was Hawke. Varric's tales of me might last, but that wasn't me in them but someone so much bigger and purer. Purer what, I didn't see when I looked.

… _**Remember your oath. It must endure even beyond death itself. Be vigilant.**_

"That... almost sounds like some of the Warden oaths," Bethany said quietly.

"Oaths are serious stuff, Sunshine. I suppose they all sound the same when it's important enough," Varric said, while looking up at the sky for a moment.

_**If the Pestilent One awakens, you will know it by these signs: The air will fill with the scent of putrefaction. You will hear a sound like the cadence of drums. Malvernis the Defiler will try to weaken your will and compel you to bear the orb out of Amgeforn, but you must hold fast.**_

"Ah, the usual warning of doom and gloom. Why use the word 'rotting,' when they can use a bigger word? Some dwarves should be kept away from word-books," Varric sounded irritated.

Anders suggested, "That name doesn't quite sound like a demon's. _**Their names reflect their natures.**_"

Drawing his blade, Fenris snapped, "Abom..."

Justice stood there glowing, simply staring at the glowing warrior. _**"I fought with a great sword in Amaranthine and Blackmarsh. Test us if you doubt, after this mission."**_

That calmer response startled Fenris, and I stepped between them, though I wasn't worried about Justice. I wondered if he might be testing Fenris.

"Whatever this Malvernis is or was, we should be able to talk about any clues..." I insisted, as arguing was fine, but beyond that was not, and Justice was being civil.

Fenris made another rude noise, but sheathed his blade when Bethany put her hand on his shoulder.

Anders took my hand and squeezed, back to normal. "We don't like this compelling the reader to carry away an orb from here, this exile posting. It stinks of mind control and blood magic."

He sounded annoyed that Fenris would have another reason to complain, but, thank the Maker, Fenris resisted for once.

_**This is the sacred duty that cannot be forsworn lest the Stone fall to poison and death. **_

"Even more, this sounds like Wardens," Bethany sounded surprised by it.

Varric was amused. "Not that many of my people or Broody's in the Wardens."

With a slow smile, Anders told him, "If you really want to, Varric, I know someone, that knows someone, who knows someone... then you can have all the Grey Warden adventures you can take, and more. But it doesn't mean you get a long life."

"You think I really expect that, with following Hawke around?" Varric laughed.

_- x -_

_A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	16. Forbidding Prospects

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Vimmark Wasteland, Carta Outerworks**

**Anders:**

This complex looked dwarven-built, like thaigs along the Deep Roads and most of Kirkwall. I hadn't planned to mention to Hawke that Alistair had taught a Templar combat skill or two to Oghren. That was when Justice had taken an interest as they'd been similar to the skills he'd originally had.

I remembered being more than a little annoyed when anyone attacked with those skills when I was trying to do some healing.

_**Those skills seemed to draw a little upon the Fade. The drunkard did not a**__**ccomplish as much**__** as the Senior Warden or I.**__** He lacked the discipline and focus.**_

Little annoyed Justice more than being unfocussed, except being drunk. This topic was giving me a headache. Those bits of battle mage theory I'd studied seemed to overlap with Justice's Fade abilities, and his with Templar skills. I just didn't have the muscle to fight as he had. He was glad to act without those bloodmage-like spells Vengeance left behind. I really did not want to think about this. I remembered using the energy drain on emissaries now and a certain satisfaction that 'I' had done a smite as well as Alistair.

_I was a mage, I shouldn't be able to smite myself._

_**I do not think you are using any battle mage abilities. We swing the sword. Blades and justice have ever been entwined within the Fade. This simplifies your understanding of the skill relationships then, as the Templar skills intersect with mine well.**_

That made me smile. Maybe the first Templars learned them from another escaped spirit, and they need the lyrium to get the Fade energy. I remembered that the lyrium-addled Templar eyes looked cloudy like Justice's had in Amaranthine. It really was too bad I couldn't afford to research the question.

"What makes you smile like that, Abomination?" Fenris asked suspiciously.

Even that didn't destroy my amusement. "Just considering theory with Justice. We're having a lively debate about the origins of those pesky Templar abilities, which would make for almost divine irony."

"Now that sounds like a fun topic. Was it resolved?" Varric moved up for speaking.

I felt my grin get smugger. "Yes, short of stealing a look at the Divine's archive. Give us time and we'll figure out how Fenris' abilities fit in too."

Fenris spat. "I can't really care, with all the pain they cause me. I'd sooner never have gotten them."

That was like a slap in the face.

Then I felt ashamed. When had I cared that much about his pain other than returning him to full health after a battle, only because it was important to Hawke?

"I'm sorry, Fenris." Bethany sounded like she meant it. "Maybe we can find a way to make it more bearable at least."

Surprised, Fenris smiled slightly at her.

Hawke was watching out of the corner of her eye and reached back when I turned back to her. I grasped her hand, feeling better just for that, as I moved closer to look at the marker again. Mew kneaded my shoulder, making me relax more.

I had to be concerned with these markers left by ancient dwarven craftsmen. If the Carta wanted help with this, why not ask Hawke? She might demand some kind of payment or favor, but she'd still do it if she thought it a good idea. Maybe they thought threats would work on her.

Hawke bent over to examine the aged metal plate that held the warning. "How many generations of warriors came to the surface to stand guard here? And why is that making me nervous?"

"Because they forgot, Hawke. The Stone remembers, maybe, but whatever they guarded isn't here anymore..." Varric paused. "Shit, Hawke, now I'm nervous. Was it freed, or is that what these Carta want freed?"

Hawke rubbed her forehead and I sent a touch of healing just for her smile.

"So this is the outer parts of a dwarven prison?" Fenris said carefully.

Varric looked grim. "These are Carta. Did they guard this place once and became businessmen once they got used to the surface? Or did they come in after the last guardians died? What happened to those warriors?"

"Maybe we'll find out," Hawke said with a grin. "That can make your next epic."

Moving inward through a channel, we spotted another marker, in an equally odd location along the side of the trench.

Even before we reached it, Varric tsked and lamented, "This is a sad, stupid place to put either a memorial or a warning. What were they drinking?"

"The swill from your tavern, Varric," Fenris stated.

I had to cough. _Fenris made a joke?_ Hawke snickered, and Bethany laughed.

"Cheap swill is what the patrons want. The good stuff is in my suite," the dwarf admitted grandly. "Many can't tell the difference."

Fenris read the next one out loud, to which Hawke grinned at first. Her grin didn't last.

_**Amgeforn the Foul**_

_**We called it Malvernis. The Pestilent One. It devoured thaigs, turning out fairest work into a noxious waste. It consumed living warriors, turning their bodies to slime, and when its hunger was not abated, it consumed the bones of our ancestors.**_

_**Foulness came from its touch, poison and filth and desecration. It threatened even the Stone itself. the Shapers bound it. Chained in lyrium stained with the blood of a hundred warriors. **_**But within the orb, it hungered, it waited.**

Fenris paused briefly when speaking of lyrium chains and his markings flared enough that I could feel them. Justice took an interest.

I wondered how the Shapers could do this if warriors could not fight it. The Shaperite seemed more like scholars. "How do Shapers do that, Varric?"

"Beats me. Nothing in the tales I know explain how the Shaperite does anything. My mother told me nothing." Varric sounded annoyed and perhaps a little frustrated.

"Chained in lyrium? That doesn't sound good." Hawke shivered and then wondered, "Stained lyrium, doesn't this remind you of that artifact, Varric?"

"As far as I ever heard from dwarves and Wardens, lyrium is supposed to be bright blue like Glowy," Varric said while absently patting the rune in Bianca.

Bethany spoke up. "Which of us is Glowy, Varric?"

"Not me!" Hawke exclaimed, putting her hands up to ward away the idea. "I've never glowed."

I wasn't about to remind her of Orzammar.

Looking at me, his face getting a little cautious, Varric said, "Anders' spirit."

_**He names me?**_ Justice sounded puzzled and surprised.

_I think he does that with people he likes, Justice. It sounds like he's decided you're okay for some reason, despite his earlier anger with us._

_**I do not like being called this 'Glowy.' **__**I am Justice.**_ Cross, but not angry, this mood was still a new thing to me.

_You be sure to tell him that sometime, it will probably change your nick-name about as much as Fenris has managed over the years._

Justice only grumbled at me for that.

"Whatever it is, it is certainly not a mortal creature, but some kind of demon or abomination that doesn't age." Fenris' lip had to be curled, from that tone of voice.

"I've aged, Fenris," I had to sigh. "Joining with a spirit does not prevent that."

"He is a Grey Warden too, and we do not often survive long," Bethany said with a glare.

I wondered if she'd been told the story of the siege at Soldier's Peak. Thinking about it, I realized she would not. Marchers wouldn't care much about a rebellion in Ferelden. That siege and its two survivors that the Warden found, abomination and blood mage, would not have been taught to her by Stroud. Following orders and avoiding politics were their only priorities.

They would not want newer Wardens to know about that still-living Warden. It doesn't fit the code we were supposed to live and die by. I wasn't that happy with it either, that the blood mage had been the defender against the abomination, or that he still lived. I should pass that on when it was only Wardens.

"At least we know that we need to watch for orbs," Hawke said finally before reading again.

_**We carried it here in the wasteland of the surface, where it can threaten nothing of value. The Stone will live. The Stone must live. We have sworn to defend it from the Foul One at any price.**_

Hawke objected, "Hey, the surface has very nice things like sunshine and birdsong."

"Don't look at me, I value surface things like _me_ very much," Varric agreed.

"Cold bastards that care only about themselves seem to appear in all the races," I had to say.

Hugging herself, Bethany said, "This area does look like a wasteland."

"But it is not. Plants and vermin are here in the dust, even at this elevation. Spring comes," Fenris said to Bethany.

Hawke moved closer to me. "What I can't decide is if this Malvernis on these plaques is the same as Corypheus? Something that fouled even rock doesn't sound like someone Carta would worship."

"Could be, Hawke," Varric admitted. "But how often do people like that do the smart thing and change their names? Did you?"

I had to smile at his fishing. "Why yes, we did. Though it becomes pointless when fighting spiders or darkspawn."

He'd probably figure it out at some point, but better we kepr it quiet.

We walked through the stone culvert, though wooden scaffolds and huge, barely shaped pieces of rock. Passing through an opening, we saw a free-standing chamber a distance away, only a little higher than us. There was stone between us and the chamber.

"And there something is," Hawke said as the immense structure became visible through the nearly unworked stone outcroppings. She shook her head a little. "I don't see a bridge from here."

Bethany seemed surprised again. "A fortress? Here in the middle of nowhere?"

"They said about locking the prison orb for this Malvernis, but it looks huge," Hawke worried. "How big an orb were they talking about?"

"Those almost look like all the dwarven statues I've seen in every thaig, but we're not close," I tried to guess scale of the building from a distance.

"Don't look at me, I like daylight and wheat. This wasn't supposed to be here according to my contacts _and_ maps," Varric grumbled.

Moving cautiously closer, the one building in the way was a landing for a stone stairway, moving down and roughly towards the building. Dry dust seemed to blow across the barren soil and it was too quiet for a living base. A dwarf sprang out of hiding and ran off. Varric muttered about the range and cover, but we were ready.

Hawke waved us back and started in front. I never liked it, but she disarmed traps and I couldn't. We moved down several flights as she did. The next set of stairs opened into another dusty yard as I petted Mew. No one was visible since we'd seen that dwarf who ran ahead of us earlier. I didn't need Hawke's wave to hold back, though Fenris moved closer.

I stopped a pace back from the first step, as did Varric. Bethany was poised to take that first step down, where her sister and Fenris had already cautiously gone down a third of the steps. This smelled like an ambush but we were all experienced.

Looking around, my eyes were drawn to what looked like that chamber on the top of a tower, a tower set down inside a mountain valley, some unknown depth below us. It was large enough it could have been a Circle tower top, but I'd never heard of one this far away from Templars.

_Why would dwarves build a Tower?_ They built down. Even surface dwarves like Varric didn't admire towers, from what I'd seen. Buildings for other groups didn't get Paragons on the dome either.

Hawke moved another step down, Fenris a step behind.

A roar came from ahead, and an enraged bronto was getting ready to charge. Hawke and Fenris reached the ground in a rush, to meet it and stop it from trampling us on the stair.

As the bronto attacked, a second one was released and about to charge. Fenris held, but Hawke was swept to the side like a rag doll. I cast some healing against my fear, and she staggered to her feet again. Fire exploded from Bethany and Varric fired down the stair as dwarves started coming out from doorways around the open area.

Reaching for that nearly forgotten spell was getting easier as a blizzard came to this bare stone in spring. Mew huddled closer as cold updrafts swept the open stair. The storm was easier, but the fights were getting messier than we'd faced for a while. The storm slowed the dwarves as well, giving Hawke more time to finish her opponents before more struggled to us.

As soon as the attacks stopped, we entered what looked like an officer's room. Varric carefully picked at a new and elaborate chest. I pushed Hawke into a corner, needing her closer. Her heart beat as hard as mine; her fingers loosened some of my braids. I needed to feel sure she was safe in my arms... she was alive.

Dizzy from lust, I heard Varric clear his throat rather loudly. "Well now, Hawke _can_ glow sometimes too. I'm feeling left out."

I froze, and the look in Hawke's eyes said we would continue later. She looked like she glowed at that, but not as much as I wished we were alone.

Dera called over my shoulder, "Look at it this way, Varric. If you need light to write by, you're all set."

He snorted as Hawke and I turned back into the room. Bethany was the irritated one now, and Fenris refused to look in our direction.

"That last group didn't say anything this time, Varric. Did you learn anything? What is _wrong_ with them?" Hawke sounded annoyed.

"Maybe they've been drinking themselves stupid. Books on the Champion are still selling well, despite... I can't see any profit for throwing more people against you like this." Varric polished Bianca with a look at Hawke.

Hawke asked, "What'd you find?"

"Healing potion, a few coins, and stale rations. Nothing special." Varric could be blasé.

I realized after being annoyed for a moment, that of course they wouldn't have any lyrium potions. Neither did they seem to have anything to help warriors. If any should have plenty of those, it should be dwarves as they had the best access to deep mushrooms. I would have to conserve potions as much as possible.

We moved past some stinking bronto cages and into another area, and Mew sneezed into my ear. No dwarves were visible when we stepped inside. Hawke was drawn to a lever in the middle of the room and Varric went over to look and to help tinker.

"You're not looking so sunny, Sunshine," Varric asked with a quick smile when they finished.

Huffing a breath in annoyance as Hawke moved to a far door, Bethany said crossly, "This is not how I wanted to come back from my Warden duties. If I came back at all."

Fenris observed, his voice neutral, "You must hate the darkspawn, after what they did to your home."

"I have a lot of hate, but it's not that focused. It's deeper for a Warden. It's been a struggle to let that go."

It just sank in that we were almost the same group that had survived the Deep Roads expedition. Only Fenris was added.

I saw Hawke wince, but she checked the door without comment. I hated the idea of not giving them that chance, but maybe I shouldn't have offered the Joining. Neither of them seemed that happy about it now.

"But you have?" Fenris asked.

Her voice gave nothing. "Let's call it a work in progress."

After the briefest of pauses, Varric replied encouragingly, "Now maybe the old place didn't roll out the welcome for you this time, but hey, it's still home, right?"

"I've spent far more time as a Warden than I ever did in Kirkwall," Bethany said bitterly.

That, our storyteller had a quick answer for too. "It ain't the buildings I'm talking about. It's been good to see you."

Bethany simply said, "Thank you."

The once sunny girl admitted to hating more than just darkspawn. She would not name anything she doesn't hate.

By this time I was only watching Dera; she'd been afraid of this since Bethany Joined. I remembered how she'd tried to put a good face on the only letter she'd gotten from the Wardens over the years in Kirkwall, and how surprised when she'd gotten anything in Orzammar. She was moving slowly at the traps now, as if she had aged fifty years.

My throat hurt for her.

Varric looked concerned too when he met my eyes. It didn't look like I was the only one to notice that Bethany hadn't said she was glad to see any of us.

I didn't expect her to want to see me, I was the example of all the things mages and Wardens were not supposed to do. Bethany wasn't reacting like an experienced Grey Warden. I thought she knew better, she had to have faced the same hard choices over the years, but now I wondered. Regardless, she still held Hawke at fault after all these years.

Neither Varric nor Fenris had given her any reason to be pissed. Fenris hadn't even said anything harsh to her the way he did every other mage.

With the doors open and clear, a stair led up to more bunks and even personal cases, making Varric and Hawke exchange tired smiles.

After we started down the stairs, Hawke muttered an expletive. Arrows started flying through the open door below us.

"Wait here," Hawke told us, dashing through the door and her cloud of concealing dust billowing up towards us. Fenris charged off nearly as quickly as arrows pelted the lower part of the stairs.

Bowstrings sang and I heard arrows hit walls and stair. Some hit Hawke and Fenris from the sound. I also heard the clanking of that lever as unfamiliar dwarven screams spread around the chamber.

I hated not seeing what was happening and rushed down in time to see Hawke yank the lever again. More dwarven screaming came from the spears and dying dwarves. But Hawke staggered and fell as two assassins appeared behind her and blood sprayed all around her.

No_ooo__**oo! We sent fire and ice as we moved forward to stand over her **__**body**__**. We let our fury crush them, ignoring their **__**transient**__** weapons. Anders wanted the purity of magic to speak their doom and we did not pause our attacks.**_

_**They were finally defeated and standing was difficult. I sought more attackers from the courtyard beyond.**_

"Anders, you must heal her."

_**The storyteller was speaking to us as the mage was fighting for control.**_

I dropped to my knees, praying that her heart still beat as I tried to pull enough energy to do something. Hawke was too close to death for anything but spirit magic to help. I had only a breath of energy left to keep her alive until I had a little time to recover, even with potions.

Hawke stirred, and I could breathe better. Hey eyes glazed with pain, I touched her lips lightly and traced up to the faint swirl on her cheek. "Love, don't do that again. Wait for Fenris."

She coughed and a spot of blood hit my hand. "They wouldn't stay as grouped and it might catch him too. Why waste their trap if they're dumb enough to stand on it?"

"I could have protected your back at least," Fenris sounded almost hurt along with the anger.

Hawke looked ashamed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, green eyes met green eyes. "I'm sorry, Fenris."

I heard the smallest of snorts from Bethany, and my annoyance with Bethany crystallized. "Hawke, did your mother hear anything from the Wardens, before that bastard Quentin killed her?"

Hawke's face fell from remembered unhappiness. She couldn't answer and only made a small croaking noise at my question.

This hurt and I felt like a bastard, but Bethany needed to hear this. I healed Hawke a bit more, knowing what I was about to say. Hawke wouldn't tell her sister the truth without prodding. I stared at Hawke, praying that she say the truth instead of what she thought would make her sister happier. "Hawke?"

She shook her head and looked at the floor before saying reluctantly, "No. I think that hurt Mother the most. It would have meant the world to her to get one letter before she died."

"Aldera!" Bethany wanted to take the high moral ground but stopped.

I embraced Hawke, healing her some more. This had festered too long.

Fenris and Varric exchanged glances.

I told them, more than the Hawkes, even if I felt ambivalent. "We're told it isn't easy being a Grey Warden. They are quick to say that it's better to cut all ties with your old life. When I Joined, all I wanted was a permanent escape from the Circle, but it's more than that. It's a calling, it really is."

Attryne and Sigrun reminded me that the militaristic and uniform-happy Orlesian Wardens had forgotten _why_ we were vigilant and gave up so much. Those things weren't why we fought. I didn't forget that my duty included mages, too, and Hawke. And yes, those duties were worth my life.

Bethany had trained with those Wardens who thought uniforms and appeasement served our duty. Their priorities never got reset because they missed the Blight. The work and the uniform weren't enough for Bethany to feel proud of.

"This sounds like a real change in tune, Blondie. Did that come with the new armor whe...?" Varric teased.

Hawke interrupted him angrily, struggling to sit up. "That's fucking crap, Anders."

I was almost surprised that the challenge had worked. She didn't disagree with me that often.

"**You** don't have a fair comparison about cutting ties! How much contact did you have with your family in the Circle? You had less to lose when you became a Warden." Hawke glared into my eyes. "You kept contact with Karl. You never mentioned any other friends. How many lived through the Blight for you to stay in contact with?

"You told me about the ones who broke that directive, Anders. You told me of the dwarf with wife and his daughter, the female Dalish mage on missions looked for her sister... Even the Hero of Ferelden still visits her brother. Kristoff had his wife until he died. Nathaniel Howe's sister sought strangers to ask for the mercy of finding her brother, sending us into the Deep Roads. How many others break that 'rule' without it compromising their duty? Family might want to _at least_ know what happened. Would you want me to disappear like that? Who fed you Grey Wardens this nugshit?"

Dera then glared at Bethany, too.

I'd insisted on being with her throughout her Joining, as long as possible and whether it was successful or not. Her dying would have ripped my heart out, but I would have known and been with her when she went into the Fade for the last time. It would have been torture to be left hanging for months like Dera and Leandra had.

Attryne and Alistair had not forced us into that, thank the Maker. I couldn't deny her anger. "Er... someone at the Vigil?"

Still ticked, and looking at Bethany for a second, Dera said to me, "Who? The Wardens you admired most haven't followed that rule, and they're better for it. How does that rule help with the burdens of being a Warden? Does it make you any less dedicated in protecting the rest of us? What made you latch onto that rule more than so many others, love?"

"I don't know, Hawke." I knew part was due to the deaths like Mhairy's but that was not enough to leave loved ones hanging. I refused that.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Fenris moved back outside to watch the clear area. Ser Mew came out from behind the doorway with a tense walk, not quite in my direction.

When Hawke was healed and cleaned up, we went back outside. I hoped we could go slowly until I was sure she was healed enough.

A gate that was heavily barred went the wrong way. There was another set of stairs moving down toward the tower. Somehow I felt sure that was the right direction.

The stairs led to some small platforms, but large pillars blocked the views of the tower. Stepping closer to the edge, we were now a little lower than the top of the domed tower. Large paragon statues wielding hammers ringed the dome. That would be expected for a dwarven fortress against this Malvernis.

What was less expected were the large statues above us and facing into the open chamber with some kind of energy streams flowing like liquid into the center. I couldn't see what was in the center and there seemed to be a bridge from the other direction.

"That is magical energy and those are griffins." Uncertainly, Bethany touched the griffin on her armor. "Why are _they_ here?"

What was worse was something I wasn't sure of. The energy that pulsed across the gap felt familiar somehow. I looked at the rest of our group and no one seemed to have similar suspicions, though Fenris was always so suspicious it was hard to tell.

Varric was studying the open chamber as if to record it, but Hawke and Fenris moved to the doorway behind us. There I examined a potion to make sure it wasn't poisonous while Varric checked an ancient chest.

Hawke saw something hidden in some old rubble crammed up at the roof and pried at a dark space in the wall. After a few moments, she pulled out a journal of some kind. A small cloud of dust came out when she placed it out for everyone to see,

The ink was old and faded as I'd expect away from a protected library, but it was still legible for some kind of scout's journal. The Viscount's library had records of...

I couldn't believe it. "Another Warden fortress? Like at Soldier's Peak? Just how many have they built and abandoned?"

"What did they guard against? Sounds like the Grey Wardens were not neutral when it came to the Magisters." Fenris approved of something.

I would mark it in my journal.

Hawk looked uneasy. "That sounds like we're going deeper into the rock then. Who knows how much it may have changed?

"Madness like that shouldn't be the taint. The taint doesn't usually act that quickly, it took days for me." Bethany looked pale.

Fenris touched her arm. "Not if it is a Magister, they use magic to control your thoughts and actions."

"I found a big key," Varric announced. "It must fit some door, or we'll have to get creative and I don't want to damage Bianca."

The key didn't fit the first door by the stairs where the next group ambushed us, shouting obscene threats. When we climbed back to that courtyard the key fit the larger gate. On the other side was a wide and roofed stairway going down.

Only a couple of steps down and we could see and hear a couple of dwarves with bows. Their voices echoed as they said, "Hold off the brontos. We need the Hawke alive."

"I can't disagree with them there, except on plurals. They just aren't very hospitable." Varric armed Bianca and was gauging the distance.

"Fenris, let's just spoil their day," Hawke grinned.

They charged down the stairs, with Fenris leading with that big sword. When he reached the base of the stairs, plates triggered, and spears lanced up into the air.

Hawke changed her run into a high leap, but was slashed before she got past them.

Shouting, I tried to cast ice at the trap, but Hawke landed in a roll and barreled into one dwarf, knocking him back. The ice covered the holes in the dust, but I moved down carefully anyway. Varric nodded that I could move forward even as Hawke finished her opponent.

Taking a breath I was about to heal Fenris, when he ran through the next archway down.

Hawke shouted for him to wait, but another forest of spears filled the top of the stairs.

I really couldn't see how Fenris could avoid all of them but he ran ahead. Hawke swore and followed, and so did we. Below the stairs was another group of guards shouting lunacy about freeing a demon or darkspawn.

They were dangerous, with archers and assassins, but they had nothing more than numbers on their side. We had two mages, two sometimes angry mages who were working out their anger on these idiots.

Varric tried to divert the lingering tension away. "One more for me! How many do you got, Hawke?"

She managed a smile wanly as she looked for any remaining opponents. "One less to worry about."

_- x -_

_A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


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